Tales of Tok'ra Flats
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


                         *******************

Includes: The Ballad of Tok'ra Flats
          The Riders of Tok'ra Flats
          A Christmas Miracle
          Journey from Andersonville
          Come Saturday Morning
          Stories From the Table: The Sheriff's Office
          A Good Deal
          Young Daniel
          The Sheriff Saves the Day
          Daniel's Civil War

                         *******************


Tales of Tok'ra Flats: The Ballad Of Tok'ra Flats
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G

WARNINGS: None

CATEGORY: Alternate Universe, Filk/Song, Series 

PAIRING: none 

SUMMARY: An Introduction Theme Song for The Riders of Tok'ra Flats sung 
to the theme song, The Legend of Wyatt Earp from the television show of 
the same name. A very different AU.

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

Come sit down beside me,
I'll tell you a story,
Here at the campfire's edge.
I'll tell you of bravery 
and tales to astound you 
And manys the story I've read.
I'll tell you the legends 
and history and mythos,
Of the people who lived here in past,
A strange group of heroes, 
some of them fierce ones,
Known as the Riders of Tok'ra Flats. 

Tok'ra Flats, Tok'ra Flats, 
strange, unusual and rare 
Long had it grown 
but with some low moans 
from the Outcasts of Tok'ra Flats. 

The General was Hammond, 
George Hammond of Texas. 
The powers had sent him to come, 
To see what was out here, 
to find what he could here,
And see what it needs to be done
He found this small village 
that had been all pillaged 
And people who needed their help.
He couldn't refuse them,
it needed defusing, 
So this band of brave heroes had come. 

Tok'ra Flats, Tok'ra Flats, 
strange, unusual and rare 
Long had it grown
but with some low moans
from the Outcasts of Tok'ra Flats.

He'd brought in the big team,
the lean team, the mean team 
His sheriff was brave Jack O'Neill 
He'd been through the big war,
he'd seen lots of fighting, 
He'd seen mankind at its damned worst. 
He'd joined the Rangers 
right after the war quit 
To change all his actions and plans. 
He'd met big George Hammond
while down there in Texas 
And figured they could make a stand. 

Tok'ra Flats, Tok'ra Flats, 
strange, unusual and rare 
Long had it lain bare 
with plenty of pain there 
The Hot Town of Tok'ra Flats. 

Then right there beside him 
on his painted pony, 
Rode little Dan Jackson, his pal. 
He didn't look scary, or evil or wary.
But he'd stand with his boss through the hell. 
Cause Danny was orphan 
and Jack he had found him 
A living with Indian's kind. 
Dan knew of their old ways, 
their wisdom of nature 
And translated all of their signs. 

Tok'ra Flats, Tok'ra Flats, 
strange, unusual and rare 
Long had the people 
not been able to sleep well 
In their Town of Tok'ra Flats. 

Behind them like sunshine, 
a golden haired lady, 
A'Riding astraddle it's said. 
On her yellow pony 
she'd follow Jack all ways 
And always list'd what he say. 
It was little Sam Carter, 
a plantation lady 
Whose family had suffered the war. 
She should a been teachin'
or maybe a reachin'
For all of the stars she could see
But she was a shooter, a rider, a rooter 
A'Trying to be all she could be 
Tok'ra Flats, Tok'ra Flats, 
strange, unusual and rare 
Long had their journey 
brought them to their earnings 
The Riders of Tok'ra Flats. 

But then on a big Mule,
the strongest man they knew 
Was big Teal'c, the African Man. 
A Great Jaffa Warrior, 
a Man you could count on 
To stand by your side to the death. 
His Momma was JuJu 
and put on his belly 
The sign of the snake
and it's stealth 
It's magic was legend, 
and he was no slacker 
In his mind and his courage at arms
was his wealth.

Tok'ra Flats, Tok'ra Flats, 
strange, unusual and rare 
Their talents were different, 
their skills all of special strengths
The Heroes of Tok'ra Flats. 

And followin behind them
in their special wagons full 
Drawn by the black oxen so huge. 
Came Janet the Doctor, 
and Siler the blacksmith, 
And Davis the electromagnetic man 
They'd fix up the science stuff, 
keep all the weapons right 
Heal all the team of their hurts, 
So if when the time came
The team could do all it's work 
For the Outcasts of Tok'ra Flats. 

Tok'ra Flats, Tok'ra Flats, 
strange, unusual and rare 
Their talents were different, 
their skills all of special strengths 
The Heroes of Tok'ra Flats. 
The Saviors of Tok'ra Flats. 


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: The Riders Of Tok'ra Flats
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G

WARNINGS: None

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Series 

PAIRING: None

SUMMARY: This is the adventures of the Riders of Tok'ra Flats, a horse 
opera that borrows the characters of Stargate SG-1 and places them in an 
AU of the wild west. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

Chapter 1: The Arrival At Tok'ra Flats

The slow moving wagon train entered the small village from the southwest. 
The main body was being lead by an older, stocky built man wearing jeans, 
shirt, a blue jacket and a silverbelly hat. His mount was a white 
stallion that that looked around with confidence and interest in his 
eyes, checking out the odd sights that the human community would show 
him. 

Riding beside them, with a slightly different manner was another striking 
pair. A tall, lean man, not quite fitting a cowboy's mold, though his 
clothes were indicative of that calling. His denim jeans were worn to a 
soft gray texture; his faded shirt had at one time been red. The wild rag 
about his throat was a plain tan color and his Stetson might have been 
black at one time. The over all appearance was one of hard earned comfort 
and confidence. The horse he was riding matched the persona perfectly; of 
obvious Appaloosa ancestry and as long legged as his master; he quick 
stepped agilely, suspiciously watching every shadow and shape that 
crossed his path. 

Behind the two riders came a handful more of horsemen and four large 
Conestoga wagons with their covers strapped tight against the wind. Four 
oxen apiece pulled the vehicles, the beasts a good sixteen hands and 
weighing at least 2000 pounds apiece. All four wagons showed indications 
of carrying heavy loads; their leaf springs bowing down to the great 
weight that they supported. The first wagon was being driven by a 
smallish woman, slim of build and determined by nature. Her dark auburn 
hair was pulled back severely into a tight bun. A light blue long sleeved 
dress was tucked around her legs and ankles to keep the extra material 
out of harms way, a ten-foot bullwhip lay coiled and ready in the seat 
next to her. A teenaged girl with long brown hair left casually loose and 
wearing a yellow dress was riding next to her on the wagon's seat. The 
girl looked excitedly out across the Town Square and could be seen 
speaking animatedly to the older woman pointing out items of interest. 

A tall slender man drove the second wagon, fair of skin and hair and 
wearing spectacles. This lent to him a sort of distinguished intelligent 
look that was confirmed by the steadiness with which he guided his team 
of black beasts. Riding next to him was a smaller, dark haired man of 
younger years and more than passing good looks.

In the seat of the third wagon was a smallish man, his thinning hair and 
sharp of features. His clothes indicated a higher level of education and 
social status. His manner in handling his team was a tad less comfortable 
than his fellow travelers but no less skilled. Next to him, him was 
another young man with short cut dark hair and dressed in a broadcloth 
coat. 

The fourth wagon was more lightly loaded and driven by a young-faced 
bespectacled man with longish light brown hair. He was wearing a fringed 
buckskinned shirt and his hair pulled back with a band of cloth wrapped 
around his brow. Seated next to him was a tall slender dark haired woman, 
her long hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a long sleeved 
black dress as befitted one recently widowed, making her slender frame 
appear even more fragile. As the wagons entered the town proper, two 
young girls stuck their heads out of the canvas awing and chattered 
excitedly; their fair heads shining like daisies in the sunshine. Along 
side this wagon a lovely young blond woman was riding on a prancing 
palomino mare. She laughed at their antics. As the group entered the Town 
Square proper the other riders came in from their exterior positions to 
gather back in from their patrol formation. 

The group was military in their precision thought their lack of official 
accoutrements belied any official affiliation. The men in the group 
displayed a fair representation of several races and creeds in evidence. 
Most markedly unusual was a large black man riding on a powerful horse of 
the size and variety usually referred to as a Foxtrotter. The pair both 
presented such a facade of controlled power that it was no surprise when 
he proceeded up to the front of the column as they arrived in the City 
Square. Also, the driver of the fourth wagon handed over the control of 
the oxen to his female partner then stood easily in the lumbering 
conveyance and whistled sharply. A paint pony of a golden chestnut hue 
that had been running loose saddled and bridled, nickered sharply and 
trotted up beside the vehicle. The young man slipped easily into the 
saddle, reached down, picked up his reins and he and the palomino lady 
cantered easily up to the front where they fell into column beside the 
African. The other four outriders lead by a fifth, a slender, middle-aged 
man on a good bay horse, copied their actions and by the time they had 
arrived in the large town square of Tok'ra Flats, the whole group was in 
military formation. They halted on the verbal command of the man on the 
white stallion.

Hearing the commotion going on out in the public area of the township, 
Mayor Debi stepped out of her Saloon, the Emerald City to greet them. She 
was a handsome woman in her late forties, about five foot e, her shoulder 
length light brown hair pulled back into a neat bun. Her manner of dress 
was one of casual efficiency, a long sleeved tailored blouse with a long 
broadcloth skirt. She had obviously been working in her store as she had 
a bibbed apron on over her clothing and a cleaning cloth in her hand. 

"Why, General Hammond." She said, recognizing the man she had met several 
months ago. "I'm very pleased to see you've returned to our little town."

Hammond dismounted from his white horse and removed his hat, revealing a 
baldpate to the bright summer sun. "Well, Ma'am. With the unpleasantness 
in the east resolved now, the United States is able to give more 
attention to our citizens out here in the western territories." He looked 
around including his people in his next statement. "Many of us are 
westerners by birth and we'd like to see this great county of ours take 
it's place in the grand scheme of things.

"Well," she admitted, "honestly, we weren't sure you'd return; though you 
are certainly welcome."

The taller man on the gray appaloosa horse edged him forward. He took his 
hat off, revealing graying light brown hair and smiling brown eyes, and 
leaned forward over the saddle horn. "Well, Ma'am. We'd of liked to get 
back sooner, but we kinda got delayed. But we're here now, if you still 
want us."

Mayor Angel couldn't help but return his smile. "Oh, of course gentlemen. 
Of course we still want you. We've had a bit of trouble when some of the 
hard cases from the outlying ranches come in to town." She indicated the 
quiet street and city square. "We're a small town here, not a lot of gun 
power, if you know what I mean. Some of us came west to avoid the recent 
unpleasantness that you mentioned, some of us came for personal reasons 
but we all came to leave troubles behind us."

"I understand that viewpoint myself, Ma'am." The tall man sat back up and 
looked around at the waiting wagons and outriders. "Is there any place we 
could water the stock and bivouac our people?"

"Well," She put her hands on her hips and looked around. "The town stable 
is back behind "The Emerald City, but I'm sure they won't have room for 
all of your animals. The 'City' is our version of a hotel and restaurant 
and entertainment combined, but I have some room in back if the ladies 
would prefer not to stay in a..."

"Oh, go ahead, C.A.,...call a cat a cat." A tall strongly built woman 
came walking up the wooden sidewalk. "It's a saloon, even if it is my 
saloon." About five foot eight, with long blond hair streaked with gray 
pulled back into a braided ponytail, she was wearing a red plaid man's 
long sleeved shirt open a the neck, a tan split riding skirt and a pair 
of well worn riding boots. "The Emerald City would be pleased to have 
anyone who desires a clean bed and good food as guests. I presently have 
ten rooms open with double beds. There's a washroom out back, and I have 
a corral for whatever beasts need containing until you find pasturage for 
them. I don't have much stall space available but there's the livery 
stable the mayor mentioned." She stopped and stood next to the mayor 
waiting for whatever the two men decided.''

Hammond looked at the other man. "What do you think, Jack?"

"I think we should take these ladies up on their gracious invitations, 
General, at least until we get situated." He looked back at the wagons, 
then swung off his horse. "Apologies, ladies. My name is Jack O'Neill." 
He held his hat in his hands as he nodded to them.

Mayor Angel nodded to him. "Mr. O'Neill, very pleased to make your 
acquaintance. This is Ms Debi, one of our local businesswomen."

Debi stepped forward. "The corral is out back down that alley. If your 
people would like my hospitality, I'll return to my saloon and get some 
rooms ready."

Hammond nodded. "Thank you. As soon as we see to the animals, we'll be 
over." Debi smiled and started back to the saloon. "Mr. O'Neill. I'd like 
to emphasize; ALL your people are welcome." She nodded and left.

Jack turned to the Mayor and the General. "Sir, and Ma'am with your 
permission. Is there something here that has served as a Sheriff's 
office?"

"Why yes, but I'm afraid it hasn't had any attention in several years." 
She shook her head. "No one wanted the responsibility or the title, I'm 
afraid." She indicated a building across the square. "It stands over 
there. The Blacksmith shop is right next door but it too is vacant. Dutch 
Schultz left us a year ago when he couldn't make a go of his business." 
She reached into her apron's deep pocket and removed a large ring of 
keys. She searched briefly on it and then removed two brass keys. "Here 
you go, Sheriff. If you need anything else, please ask. We may not have 
it, but we'll certainly try to get it for you."

"That's quite all right Ma'am." Jack smiled easily at here. "That's what 
we're here to correct." He turned in the saddle and addressed his men. 
"Daniel, Teal'c, you're with me. Ferretti, see to the horses and when 
you're through come over to the Sheriff's office for now. Later, we'll go 
over to the Saloon. It's also a hotel and we'll be staying there until we 
get a bunkhouse ready. Siler, you and the other men with the wagons, 
water the oxen, put them in the corral then come over. We'll see what we 
need to begin. Carter," He addressed the young woman on the palomino. 
"Will you stay and help the Doctor?"

"Of course, Colonel...uh Sheriff." The blonde turned her horse and 
trotted back to the first wagon.

The Mayor thought a moment. "There's an empty storefront just on the 
corner over there Doctor. You can set up there for now but it has no 
amenities." She handed another key to General Hammond.

The small woman nodded without any concern. "I'm sure it will be just 
fine. Sally, the girls and I will get started over there. What it doesn't 
have we can get later."

Hammond had gotten back on his horse. "Mayor, you have been very helpful. 
Thank you. I would like to go insure my people get settled. Perhaps we 
could meet somewhere for Supper and get to know each other better 
tonight."

"Well, the Emerald City is the only restaurant in town." She laughed with 
relief at their unexpected good fortune of the arrival of these their new 
protectors. "And Debi sets a good table if a bit limited."

"Then we will see you there this evening." Hammond tipped his hat and 
turned the white horse back to the wagons. Hammond nodded and then rode 
over to the woman in the first wagon and handed her the large brass key 
to her new Doctor's Office door. "Dr. Fraiser. We have arrived."

                         *******************

Chapter 2: That Night In Tok'ra Flats

That evening in Tok'ra Flats, Colonel Jack O'Neill, late of the Union 
Army and now Sheriff O'Neill settled his broadcloth suit coat over his 
good shirt and string tie. He was in his hotel room on the second floor 
of the Restaurant/Hotel/Saloon 'The Emerald City' in their new 'home' of 
Tok'ra Flats. Several hours later, after their arrival in the town and 
inspecting his new office in the Jail, the blacksmith's shop and finally 
Dr. Fraiser's office he'd been able to clean the hard-caked dirt from his 
body and take a short siesta. He had the room to himself for now and he 
had enjoyed sleeping on a real bed even if just for a few uninterrupted 
hours. 

Daniel, his 'roommate' was now out getting cleaned up at the 'bath-house 
that stood separate from the hotel. The young man was pretty civilized 
considering his teenaged years was spent with the Indians, though O'Neill 
had to admit the Cherokees that he knew were as educated as some 'white' 
men and a damned sight more so than a lot of others. Years ago when he'd 
met Daniel, he had been told a hunting party had found the boy in Texas 
after his parents had been killed by either Comanche Indians or possibly 
Comancheros. The Cherokee had taken him home with them to their lands in 
Oklahoma where he was raised as one of their own. O'Neill had met him 
there during his duties in the Texas Rangers and become fast friends. 
Jack had left him safely behind when he returned to his home state of 
Illinois to join up with the Union Calvary during the civil war.

After the war Jackson had heard that O'Neill had been captured and the 
young man had gone to get his friend and mentor from the Georgia Hell 
hole of the Confederate POW camp. After his little stay in Andersonville, 
Jack needed the freedom and openness of the range. So, he'd retired after 
the war and 'Gone To Texas' in search of a new life. He'd discovered that 
his young friend Jackson had been recently widowed and also needed a 
change of scenery. While in Texas O'Neill had been approached by General 
Hammond to come and serve as sheriff in the small town of Tok'ra Flats. 
This job of lawman had been a godsend to the Footloose and emotionally 
spent man. He'd needed a purpose in life but didn't want to see anymore 
'Military Action'. 

O'Neill had met Major General Hammond, late of Texas, before the war when 
they'd both served in the Rangers. Hammond's own son had chosen to fight 
for the South where he'd been killed in the fighting in Georgia. This 
type of family split had been all too common during the war, but with his 
son's death, George had taken his daughter-in-law and two granddaughters 
under his protection and brought them with him to this new place in the 
territories.

The double-handful of soldiers that formed the military portion of their 
people had been hand picked by the General. Hammond himself had selected 
Major Louis Ferretti; a second generation Italian American from New York 
and his squad of hand picked soldiers formed the rest of their company. 
They were all professional soldiers and good fighters able to both take 
commands and make difficult decisions in the field. 

Then there were the scientists, inventors and engineers. Dave Siler was a 
blacksmith and a mechanical genius. The tall Irishman from Pennsylvania 
not only could duplicate anything anyone could think of, but he could 
envision and create amazing inventions all his own. He'd actually made a 
working buggy that ran without a horse. It operated on steam, like a 
train engine. Walter Davis a Midwesterner like O'Neill himself, had a 
talent for working with the actual forces of nature. The man could make 
metal, like steel, actually 'attract' other metals! And he was presently 
trying to get the power of lightening and the sun and use them to give 
energy to several different inventions of his own, like a little ball of 
glass to make it glow so dark could be light! Then, the youngster Graham 
Simmons, who would have been top of his class at West Point if he hadn't 
been born in Virginia, who could make gunpowder and nitroglycerin along 
with other amazing things like sticks that would burn for many hours 
after they'd been ignited. These men Hammond had seen at work during the 
war and he had brought the scientific engineers with them to help solve 
the mysteries of this new western land.

Hammond and O'Neill had picked and gathered the civilians in the group 
that formed the rest of their people. Dr. Janet Fraiser and her adopted 
daughter had come to set up a medical practice. Jack had met her while 
she was working in a Union Army Hospital. Women doctors were still new 
but he'd found out early in his own experiences that talent and skill 
didn't depend upon ones sex to be qualified. And Fraiser had a touch that 
few other doctors could equal. The other woman that had come with them 
was someone he'd 'discovered' on a war-ravaged plantation in Georgia. A 
young woman, well educated and gently raised, Samantha Carter was the 
daughter of an old acquaintance of both Hammonds. Gen Jacob Carter had 
been fighting for the south and had not returned to his land and what was 
left of his family. So instead of leaving the beautiful young woman alone 
to fend off the rough men traveling through the debased south, he and 
Daniel had convinced her to leave what was left of her family lands and 
come west with them. Later they had discovered that Carter had an unusual 
talent herself. She would see and manipulate numbers in her mind as if 
she were looking at them on a piece of paper. This skill had turned out 
to be of great value when combined with that of some of General Hammond's 
experts Siler, Davis or Simmons. The black warrior Teal'c had been a 
surprise all around. He had been with Samantha Carter on her place, 
protecting her from the mobs as much as he could alone. After the 
emancipation proclamation, Carter had freed all her slaves but he'd 
refused to leave her alone and defenseless. Turned out he'd been born 
free in Africa and not enslaved until well past the legal importation of 
blacks from Africa. The man had once been a warrior and a sub-chief in 
his tribe. He had known the joys of freedom and the agony of servitude. 
And now he'd also set out with their group to find a place where he could 
live free. 

Together they made up a unique group of talented and skilled people. And 
they'd come here to Tok'ra Flats to explore some unusual rumors that had 
been filtering back east. Stories about 'magic doorways' and mirrors that 
showed you things other than your own reflection. About people who could 
appear and then disappear without a trace and a race of people who lived 
in the mountains with special powers and eyes that glowed.

O'Neill heard Daniel's foot steps in the hallway. Finally the young man 
scratched on the outside of the door. He knew Jack was a little spooky on 
someone walking in on him and always took precautions to let his friend 
know who it was. "Come on in Danny. I hear you."

The door opened quietly and the younger man slipped in. "You look 
better." He commented.

"And you smell better." Jack replied easily. "Those buckskins of yours 
have developed a life of their own." Daniel was now wearing Levis and his 
one good 'store-bought' shirt. He was barefoot, as he hadn't put his 
boots back on.

"Yes, but they will be difficult to replace." Jackson smiled at O'Neill. 
"I will have to find a tribe that I can barter with to get another."

"You can wear regular clothes Daniel. You are actually white, you know." 
It was a long-standing joke between them. 

"Actually, Jack I'm sort of a tanned color, as are you. I have never seen 
a really 'white' skinned man before."

"Yea, I know. But if you dress like regular folk, you'll get into more 
places." Referring back to times when Daniel had been refused entrance 
into a saloon or hotel because he was 'Injun'.

"Places that won't let me in because of my skin color or way I dress, I 
do not want to enter." He looked at Jack. "That is why I like it here. 
The woman owner made it a point to say all of us were welcome here."

The older man nodded. "I liked that too. Speaking of women, are our women 
here?" He asked.

"Janet, Cassie and Sam are staying in the large corner room. I believe 
Sally and the two girls are staying at the General Store."

"Well, the two little ones probably should be staying at a quieter 
place." He nodded. "How about Teal'c?"

"He doesn't like to share a room, so I'm not sure he's here. But I know 
the woman had a place for him if he wanted it."

"Well, I don't want him sleeping in the barn again.... or you either. 
Damn it Daniel, you've both got to start acting more...normal."

"As do you. If you continue to suffer lack of sleep and nightmares, you 
won't be safe to be around." Daniel sat down and started putting on his 
socks and boots. "You will shoot someone who startles you."

"Well, with a little work, we'll be able to move into those quarters at 
the Sheriffs office. Teal'c can stay there with us, unless you want to 
get your own place."

"Maybe later, when we are established here." Daniel grinned at him. "I'm 
not sure you can safely be left alone yet."

They could hear the noises from downstairs, the voices of the men and 
someone was playing a guitar, maybe Ferretti. Chances are that Siler 
would show up with his banjo. This group got along well and all of them 
had seen the hard side of life. They appreciated any time they could get 
together for a little relaxation and fun. Then they heard a different 
sound. Daniel looked to Jack. "Sounds like a mandolin." O'Neill replied. 
"Let's go down and find out."

As they arrived down in the 'dining' room of the saloon, they could see 
that it was the beginnings of a happy gathering. The two previously 
identified musicians were there plus the addition of a small dark 
complexioned man with the mandolin. He and Ferretti were sitting next to 
each other speaking in another language. But then Mz. Debi called to him 
and he regretfully went back to the long table where all the food was 
laid out. It was a veritable feast after what they'd been eating on the 
trail. Roast meat of some kind, boiled potatoes, some cornbread and some 
greens boiled with bacon in them. Debi, Mayor Angel, Sam Carter, Cassie 
and some other women they hadn't met yet were manning the serving line. 
The musician must be the cook as he was bringing out what appeared to be 
a desert of some kind. Janet Fraiser was helping Sally Hammond with her 
two little ones and the General and some others of their group were 
seated and starting to eat. The Saloon owner spoke to the Mayor and 
pointed her over to the General's table. Sam Carter waived at the two men 
that came down the stairs.

Jack stopped at the center landing and announced. "This...now this is a 
welcome." He turned and smiled at Daniel.

The younger man nodded. "The last time I saw something like this was at a 
Cherokee wedding."

The two went on down the stairs and got in line. Debi served them both 
large slabs of the roast, and they worked their way down the line. When 
they got to Sam at the end, she pointed to another table. "There are 
drinks over there, Colonel. Beer, sarsaparilla, apple cider and some 
local drink. They make tea, water it down and pour it over ice. It's 
really nice." She looked at Daniel, "They put honey in it when it's still 
warm so it's sweet."

"Hum, sounds interesting. Thanks."

Jack looked at her. "Beer you said?"

She grinned at him. "Beer. In the keg." 

He nodded. "Beer."

They went and retrieved their drinks and sat down at the table with the 
General and the Mayor. Teal'c was already there and was eating as well.

"This is really nice, Mayor. Thank you." The General started to thank 
her.

"Oh, we're just so glad to have you." Mz. Angel said. "It's such a relief 
not to have to worry about things getting out of hand around here again." 

"What seems to be the main problem?" O'Neill asked. 

"Well, we have the cowhands. I'd mentioned them." She nodded. "We're 
close enough to Mexico to be targets for the Comancheros when they're 
having a drought down there and can't steal anything at home. But our 
main problem is that it's pretty well known that a lot of our men went 
back east to fight in the war. So there's a lot of women here alone. Some 
of us, Debi for instance, can handle a rifle or a handgun as good as most 
men. But there are a lot of us that can't handle ourselves as well." She 
shook her head ruefully. "I'm afraid we've gotten the reputation of being 
easy pickings for any down and out ne'er-do-well."

Sam, Cassie and Mz Debi arrived with their plates and sat down at the 
large round table with them. "Talking about me again C.A?" The saloon 
owner teased the Mayor.

"Actually, she was telling us about your problems here in town and that 
you're pretty capable of taking care of yourself." Daniel put in.

"Well, growing up on a ranch in Texas, you learn to shoot varmints early, 
both the four-legged kind and the two-legged kind." She shrugged. "Not 
anything special."

"Any Indian problems?" Daniel asked a leading question. 

She looked at him suspiciously. "Nary a one. Indians have enough problems 
of their own to worry us." She continued "We've got a few down the road 
at the Mission, some orphans and old ones. A couple of us go down and 
teach when we can or help doctor them when they're sick or hurt."

"Daniel was raised by the Cherokee." O'Neill put in. "He speaks quite a 
few dialects."

"I'd be happy to help as much as I'm able." The younger man volunteered.

"My husband is half Cherokee." Debi said quietly. "He went east to the 
war. He hasn't come back yet, but I'm still waiting." She forced a smile. 
"The Padre will be happy for your help, Daniel. They need to learn to 
read and write so they can interact with white businessmen."

Daniel nodded. "Yes, I've seen quite a bit of problems with trade. The 
business types seem to think that Indians are fools or just plain stupid. 
There is much to be learned on both sides of the intercultural barriers."

Jack had to smile at Debi's expression towards Daniel. "Yes, Ma'am. He's 
way smarter than he lets on. I think he likes to wear the buckskins to 
keep everyone unaware of just how much smarter he is."

Daniel looked affronted. "I wear them because they're comfortable."

"Well, for whatever reasons you have, young Daniel, I believe you are 
going to teach a lot of people a thing or two in your lifetime." She 
looked around. "As is everyone else I've met in your group will."

Mayor Angel got up from the table and went to the front of the big room. 
She was carrying a glass of Apple Cider. She took the center of Dancehall 
floor.

"Citizens of Tok'ra Flats and our Guests from back east. I would like to 
take this opportunity to welcome you all most gratefully to our little 
township. We are glad you are here with us now and hope that your arrival 
is the beginning of a new age of peace, friendship and prosperity for all 
of us. Welcome!" 

General Hammond stood up at the table and raised his glass of beer in 
return. "Mayor Angel, we can only accept your welcome and second your 
good wishes. We are here to protect and assist in whatever manner we can. 
Thank you for your warm welcome and your gracious hospitality."

Mz Debi stood up at the table. "One of the things that we have discovered 
tonight that we hold in common is that there is both the love of good 
music and the ability to play it. Luigi Nopoli, my friend, bartender and 
sometime entertainer has discovered some kindred spirits in our new 
friends. So if they will be so kind." 

The small dark gentleman came back up to the center stage and picked up 
his mandolin. Dave Siler came shyly out of the group of newcomers 
carrying his banjo and finally Louis Ferretti appeared with his guitar. 
They settled down as old friends and talked amongst themselves then began 
to play the old Irish ballad, 'Oh Danny-boy' with Siler singing the lead 
tenor.

Later that evening, O'Neill made his way out of the crowd. He went out 
onto the boardwalk that lined both sides of the street. He looked down 
towards the end of town lost in thought. After a while he heard a soft 
scratch on a wooden banister. "Come on Daniel, I hear you."

"Well, Jack. I'd say it's been a successful evening." The younger man 
came out of the shadows to stand beside his best friend.

"Yes." Jack agreed. "Yes, I'd have to agree with you."

A feminine voice spoke up softly. "The people here are very nice, 
Colonel."

Jack turned to smile at Samantha Carter. "Yes, they are."

And the expected deep tones of Teal'c added. "They are different in the 
way they view strangers, O'Neill. It is very unusual."

"You can say that again, Teal'c." Daniel answered for Jack. "I hope that 
it stays that way."

"Well Daniel, Teal'c, Carter. I suppose it will be up to us to keep it 
this way." O'Neill gestured towards the dark street. "There are a lot of 
things out there, a lot of people, who would like to change it. It'll be 
our job here to keep it peaceable and friendly and safe. But I do think 
we've got what we need to do it."

Another presence was felt as Mayor Angel came out onto the walk to stand 
with the 'team'. "We of Tok'ra Flats trust that you have got what we 
need, Sheriff. We believe you have the right people for the job. We 
certainly know that we have the right Sheriff. Thank you for coming."

Sheriff O'Neill looked around at his friends and teammates. "We'll do our 
best, Ma'am. We'll do our very best."

the end for now.


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: A Tok'ra Flat's Christmas Miracle
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G

WARNINGS: minor language

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Holiday, Series 

PAIRING: None

SUMMARY: The Sheriff of Tok'ra Flats and the Priest of Mission San 
Patricio finally meet. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

It was getting to be a lot like Christmas in the small western town of 
Tok'ra Flats. It was the morning of Christmas Eve. The Emerald City 
Saloon was already festooned with pine tree branches, ribbons, 
luminaries, and of course the biggest, tallest, fanciest Christmas tree 
in town. It stood over twelve feet tall and was decorated with fresh 
fruit, grapefruit, oranges, lemon, apples, pear apples hauled in all the 
way from Corpus Christi Texas, by the special order of it's owner, Mayor 
Debi. Along with the fruits, there were gingerbread cookies, popcorn 
strung together and the school children (a maybe one or two or ten of the 
Riders) had taken colored paper and made chains of the red, yellow and 
blue stuff. There were some painted pinecones and even some delicate 
blown glass honest to real tree ornaments donated by some of the town's 
people for the overall good. It was beautiful.

Debi had to stop and watch as Louigi, Daniel, Sam and Teal'c were putting 
the finishing touches on the tree. Louigi was arranging the small hand 
carved wooden nativity scene, Daniel was putting a last paper chain on 
the very top boughs from a precarious perch of a chair on a table. Teal'c 
was holding the furniture in place and giving directions for the chains 
placement. Sam was delicately tying some silk ribbons on what few bare 
spots remained. There weren't many.

As Debi turned to go get some more firewood for the pot-bellied stove, 
she saw Sheriff O'Neill standing on the center landing of the staircase. 
He was standing motionlessly, a look of extreme concern on his face, 
watching his youngest Deputy performing his upper air ballet on top of 
the chair. He stood there until Daniel, finally satisfied with his 
placement of the ornamentation, turned and hopped down onto the table and 
to the floor. She had to smile as she saw him exhale finally and shake 
his head.

"Daniel!"

"Oh, hi Jack. I didn't see you there."

"I wasn't here when you got up there, or you wouldn't have BEEN up 
there." He growled at his young friend. 

Daniel smiled winningly at the formidable looking lawman. "I was in no 
danger, Jack. Teal'c would have caught me."

"Danny boy, I don't quite know how to tell you this...but you're grown 
now and not light as a feather anymore. I don't want either of you at Doc 
Fraiser's surgery." He looked at Teal'c, who did not look the least 
concerned at the possibility of catching Deputy Jackson out of mid-air. 
The Sheriff shook his head again, sighed and headed for the door. 

Debi took up along side of him. "You're in a mood today, Sheriff."

He looked sidewise at her. "You coming to lecture, or can I help you with 
something?"

She smiled teasingly at his glower. "Well, if yer asking, I do need some 
help a bringing in some firewood. I want to have everything done so's I 
can go to Evening Mass at the Mission. Padre Joe says the Indian Kids 
have come up with a Passion Play." She laughed merrily."It's always fun 
to see those kids having a good time doing anything."

The Sheriff smiled back, "Yeah, kids like that have a hard row to hoe in 
life anyway."

"That's the truth." She nodded. "I think half of them are orphans from 
after the Small Pox epidemic. It was the first year I was here, about 
five years ago. Father Joe came in right after I did. I think it was him 
that figured out the blankets the traders were bringing in from the west 
were contaminated. We burned everything we could find and then Ms. Angel 
donated jest about her whole stock of woolen blankets. He worked and 
nursed and stayed there with them, wouldn't let any of us that hadn't 
been exposed before come in and help. I thought for sure we'd lose him 
too, but his boss man must a' been looking after him, cause he never did 
even get a fever. Then, bless Pat, the next summer, well, here comes 
Father Joe with that ole buckboard of his'n jest full of them purty woven 
Indian blankets for her and everyone else who helped out." She smiled in 
remembrance. "He's been working his as.uh, hands off out there ever 
since. Doin' a whole lotta good for them and everyone else around here. 
When you need help, he and his boys will show up and dig ditches, cut 
hay, help brand, you name it, they'll do it. He just won't let them carry 
pistols or drink hard liquor."

The Sheriff nodded in understanding. "You can't hunt with pistols, 
they're only for killing men and, well, a beer now and then is good for 
the blood." He winked at her; "Any Irishman worth his salt knows that."

"Yep, that's something my ole daddy'd say all right." Debi had to smile 
at his serious tone. "So, you coming with us?"

"Nah, I think I just stay here and keep the stove burning." He declined 
politely.

The woman looked up at him, his expression had changed, and his face was 
a closed book if she had ever seen one. She'd have to ask Daniel or Sam 
what the problem was. "Well, if you change yer mind, you know where the 
Mission is."

                         *******************

Later that day, Daniel was sitting by the ole pot bellied stove, putting 
the short chopped logs into the coal bed. Ms Debi came out of the kitchen 
with the scent of cakes baking in the restaurant's oven in the back 
kitchen wafting behind her. She had a big yeller crockery bowl in her 
hands and it had the remains of some chocolate cake frosting in it. 

The young man looked up at her suspiciously as she sat down next to him 
and handed him the bowl. "What?"

She looked at him all innocent eyed. "What what?"

"I was always told to beware of Greek's bearing gifts." He accepted the 
bowl and stuck a finger into the chocolate confection, transferring some 
of the sweet stuff to his mouth with skill and alacrity.

"Well, it doesn't matter," she replied primly; "I'm Irish and Alsatian. 
Not a Greek in sight, even Louigi." 

The small dark man had come into the empty saloon with a mop and bucket 
to wax the dance floor for the upcoming festivities. The barkeep looked 
at her with a scowl. "I no Greece man, I Italiano, 
eefyoupleasethankyouverrrmuch." He proceeded to slop the liquid on the 
wood floor and mop energetically. The man and woman watched him in 
surprise for a moment, and then continued on with their conversation.

"So, you going to the Mass, Daniel?"

"Sure, Little Raven and Morning Flower would never forgive me if I didn't 
come." He chuckled; "it took us all morning to convince Paco, the burro, 
to tote her sideways. Then, he looked at her in comprehension "Oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh, why isn't Jack going? Is that what this is all about?"

She had the decency to look embarrassed but stuck her chin out anyway. 
"Okay, you're right. Why won't he go?"

"Not my place to say," the young man answered her lightly. "You want to 
know about Jack, you ask Jack." He forlornly extended the bowl back 
towards her. 

Debi laughed, and waved him off. "That wasn't a bribe, Daniel," she 
grinned down at him. "That was from one chocolate fiend to another. Just 
bring the bowl back to the kitchen when you're done with it." He smiled 
back and she patted him on the head. "After all, I wouldn't want to stand 
accused of bribing a Deputy."

                         *******************

It was Christmas Eve and time for Midnight Mass at Mission San Patricio. 
The townsfolk had carefully scheduled their evening time to be ready for 
the big annual event that Padre Joe had so carefully orchestrated. 

Mayor Debi had spent the last hour trying desperately to get her hair to 
stay within the confines of its bobby pins. The gray strands that had 
mainly started to take over from the dark blonde hair was not going along 
with her planned hairstyle. It insisted upon springing up along any edges 
and parts she tried to corral it into. Finally, she gave up and just 
stood looking at her reflection in the dresser mirror still in slight 
disbelief. Angel and Athene had insisted that she needed a new party 
dress and had picked the dark blue-green velvet material and sewn the 
garment. Devra, Majel and Kelly had put their two cents in with a collar 
and cuffs of Irish Lace, some silver buttons, shiny cord and other such 
fol-der-rol. She had objected initially, but looking at herself in the 
mirror, she realized that all their efforts were really showing off what 
assets she had left at her age and mileage. She picked up her heavy 
winter shawl and wrapped the cream colored wool around her shoulders, 
pulling one side up over her head and shoulders to keep the northern 
night wind from chilling her on the way out to the Mission.

She left her room, to meet the others who were waiting for her. They had 
decided to all ride together in one of the Rider's wagons, instead of 
going by horseback and risking the ruination of all their grooming 
efforts. 

Samantha was resplendent in sky blue satin dress that just matched her 
eyes. Around her throat was a beautiful antique necklace with a least 
five sizeable blue gems, possibly sapphires, that the older woman was 
sure had been handed down from her mother. Sam's blond hair, having 
escaped from their braids for the evening, was perfectly styled except 
for the short bangs that always seemed to have a mind of their own. She 
was enveloped in a heavy gray woolen cloak with a hood that fastened with 
a red silken frog around her throat against the evening chill. Daniel 
said something to her and her laugh sounded out like musical notes. The 
cold wind blowing down from the mountains had added an attractive blush 
to her cheeks. 

Daniel Jackson was also dressed in his finest. He was wearing his new 
fringed buckskin shirt that he had gotten for his birthday last July as a 
joint gift from the Anasazi tribe that he was working so hard to help and 
a few of the citizens, herself included. The beautifully tanned leather 
over shirt was almost exactly the color of his sun-bleached hair. Some of 
the fringes were decorated with beading of turquoise and some few small 
feathers, not enough to be too gaudy but certainly enough to catch the 
eye. Around his slender waist was a wide, flat braided leather belt held 
together in the front by a turquoise buckle in the squash blossom style 
of the Navaho. He wore the shirt over a pair of black broadcloth trousers 
and on his feet were the knee high laced and fringed moccasin boots that 
started just above the calf of this leg.

Teal'c struck an imposing and handsome figure, wearing a brand new dark 
gray woolen suit complete with white cotton shirt, silver colored silk 
cravat tied to some exact set of specifications that some one had 
obviously known more about than she did, tucked into a maroon silk vest 
with gold buttons shining in the lantern light. A gold chain was lying 
across his broad chest, obviously connected to a large gold watch that 
peeked out of the vest's watch pocket. On his feet were a pair of brand 
new, shiny, highly polished black leather boots. He was carrying a dark 
gray bowler hat that matched his suit. As the four friends gathered in 
the upper hallway, they could hear Louigi bustling about in the 
downstairs kitchen area. Finally, he called to them from the Dance Hall 
itself.

"Hey, up-a-der. You alla-mos ready to go yet? It'sa alla-mos foura 
tirdy." He came out into the middle of the highly waxed floor and waved 
at them. They all looked at him in amazement. 

The small young Italian was resplendent in a black tailed tuxedo coat, 
worn over a silver silk shirt, red cummerbund, fawn colored pants and 
complete with a pair of patent leather dress shoes. His shoulder length 
black hair was neatly combed into a rigorous part and as the other 
members of the party descended the stairwell, he produced a black top hat 
and popped it on his head. 

When they reached the ground floor, Louigi offered his arm to his friend 
and business partner, Ms Debi, who took hold of it with a small curtsey. 
Daniel extended his right elbow to Samantha, which she took graciously 
and when Teal'c showed up on her other side she took his arm also. 

Once outside the two women were lifted up into the high-sided, canvas 
covered conestoga wagon that was waiting for them. When they were safely 
seated, Teal'c and Louigi joined them in the sheltered seats under the 
bows. Daniel climbed up into the box to drive the pair of big Missouri 
Mules to the adobe and stone church several miles outside of town. 

Sheriff O'Neill was standing on the Emerald City's exterior balcony 
holding a snifter of brandy. The Napoleon was his Christmas present from 
Daniel and Sam and he raised the round bottomed, stemmed goblet in salute 
as they drove by. Daniel, hawk-eyed as usual, saw him and waved an 
invitation to him. O'Neill shook his head and waved back. He smiled to 
himself as he heard the happy excited voices of his little extended 
family as the large wagon drove away from their home.

On the outskirts of Tok'ra Flats, they were joined by a goodly number of 
the riders dressed in their finest duds on both horseback or in buggies. 
Another of the large schooner wagons driven by Lou Ferretti contained the 
Hammonds and the Fraisers. The little cavalcade wound its way down the 
dirt road towards the Mission. Ms Angel and Ms Athene were there the 
General Store's delivery wagon; Ms Devra and Ms Majel and Ms Jo had also 
come together in the Lumber mill's large and heavily made Lumber delivery 
buckboard. Just about everybody in town had shown up to celebrate the 
Christmas season at the Mission.

Once at their destination and after everyone disembarked from their 
various forms of transportation, Father Joe, or Padre Joe, as the 
community affectionately knew him, greeted them with delight. The Priest, 
in spite of his nickname was neither Spanish nor Mexican, but was a 
second generation Irishman from Chicago. Though he had been born in 
America, his voice still held a trace of the lilt that marked him from a 
family not long from the auld country. He was in his early forties, a 
tall slender handsome man with laughing brown eyes and sandy colored 
hair. Wearing the full-length black cassock and white collar of his 
calling should have made him an intimidating figure. Instead his ready 
smile and legendary good humor made him one of the most beloved men in 
the territory. 

Not that he wasn't a force to be reckoned with. Just last year, Debi had 
seen him stand his ground and bring down a grizzly bear with three shots 
from his old carbine. The beast had been raiding the small herd of milk 
goats that belonged to the mission and his only comment later had been 
that God had given him those poor wee beasts to care for just like his 
other children and they had needed defending. She'd also seen him deliver 
a Mexican woman's baby with gentle skill and then curse a drunken cowboy 
into shame for whipping his poor horse to the ground. The Padre played a 
mean hand of poker and was the best chess player she ever sat across the 
table from. Rumor had it that he and Daniel were fairly well matched in 
the game, the younger man having been taught the skills of battle by 
Sheriff O'Neill.

But now the priest was as excited and proud of 'his children' as any man 
could be. It would be a full night of entertainment and sacred worship 
for everyone involved. He welcomed all comers to the enclosed courtyard 
of the old Mission grounds and saw to it that everyone was settled for 
the evening's festivities.

First, on the program that evening, the older adolescents performed their 
Passion Play depicting the journey of Joseph and Mary into Bethlehem. In 
the first act, the smaller children depicted the shepards who received 
the annunciation of the Christ child's birth with their flocks of the 
Mission's long-suffering milk goats and the Mission's pet mongrel dog, 
Sport. Then the boy Raven and beautiful little Morning Flower depicted 
the holy couple and their faithful burro, Paco, who were dutifully turned 
away from each and every inn. Finally, the couple was sent to the stable 
bower where the infant baby Jesus appeared on cue, very well portrayed by 
the three-month-old method actor, Little Wolf. He was carried in by a new 
character in the story, Saint Patrick, ably portrayed by Standing Coyote 
the oldest boy at the school. After a hymn of something resembling "Holy 
Night" with support from the audience, the three kings appeared, one in 
fringed leather buckskins, one in a buffalo robe and one wrapped in a 
bright red Indian blanket to worship at the holy infant's bower which was 
performed flawlessly by a feed trough. After the gifts were given and 
accepted by the holy parents another hymn of 'Silent Night' was 
performed, again with audience participation. Just as the play was 
ending, the sun which was setting between the two highest peak of the 
Tok'ra Mountains performed its task of perfectly highlighting the 
Nativity for several minutes before it dropped behind the peaks for it's 
evening rest. The applause was resounding and long lasting much to the 
pride and pleasure of everyone in attendance. 

After a brief pause, the younger children's choir started to sing some 
classic and some new Christmas carols. This allowed the animals to be 
secured for the night and the guests to proceed on into the Chapel itself 
and get comfortable on the dirt floor in preparation for the required 
kneeling and praying of the High Mass itself.

The Mass, like all High Masses, was very long, very Latin, very holy and 
very tiring for all involved. But coming from the emotional high of the 
Play, it was quite bearable and almost enjoyable. So, no one was watching 
to see the tall man arrive outside the Mission, tie his gray mottled 
Appaloosa to a Mesquite tree, slip into the rear of the building and 
stand quietly in the shadowed corner of the Sanctuary. At the end of the 
Evening's service, the Priest and his group of altar boys proceeded back 
to the main door to greet, thank and bless all of their guests who had 
attended the evening's festivities. The Emerald City group and Judge 
Hammond's party had stayed awhile in the Chapel, speaking to their 
friends the Riders and some of the neighboring ranchers. Rancher Ryan and 
his extended family were there and Judge Hammond was discussing the 
further pasturage of their livestock with the local landowner. So, when 
they did leave, their group was one of the last to depart the chapel. 

Louigi, Teal'c and Ferrretti had gone to get the wagons and mules. Ms 
Debi was speaking to Ms Angel, Ms Jo and Ms Athene; Sam visiting with the 
younger women Ms, Majel and Ms Kelly; and Daniel was talking to the two 
town Medical people, Doc Janet and Ms Devra, the Veterinarian.

Then Daniel noticed the familiar figure exiting the chapel by a back door 
and saw Father Joe had also seen the silent man of the shadows and was 
heading back to speak to the stranger. Daniel excused himself from the 
group and went after the Priest, trying to head him off at the proverbial 
pass. Daniel had recognized the Sheriff immediately, and was concerned 
that the older man would be in a somewhat sensitive condition after the 
religious experience. Jack did not do vulnerable well. The young man 
wanted to prevent any misunderstanding between two men he admired 
greatly. Then, an extraordinary thing occurred.

The Priest had almost caught up to the retreating pilgrim with his long 
legged stride, when the man turned to face the cleric. They were standing 
at about five feet apart, stock stone still, with nary a word only a look 
of complete shock and disbelief. 

Seeing the Sheriff's tense body language, Daniel had started to hurry now 
as he approached the pair wanting only to forestall any 
misunderstandings. Then, he stopped in amazement when he saw the stunned 
expression on his best friend's face. The shocked expression was 
reflected in the Priest's face. 

Debi and Sam had seen Daniel break away from the group in the Chapel and 
gone after the young man. They had also stopped and were caught in 
amazement at what they were seeing before them.

The two men in question were staring at each other as if each were seeing 
a ghost from bygone days. The two men revealed much in their close 
proximity and it was graphically obvious by the marked similarity of 
their lean forms, the identical graceful long-legged stance, and the 
mirrored sharp facial profiles. It was clear to anyone that bothers to 
look that they were not only kin, but also relatives of a much closer 
bloodline.

Ferretti, who had seen something from a distance but didn't know exactly 
what had ensued, had come skidding up beside Daniel. He looked over at 
the tableau and the only comment. "Oh, my God." was all the Ranger could 
manage.

Finally, the sheriff and the priest stepped towards each other. As the 
two brothers reached to enfold each other in their arms, the O'Neill men 
found each other for the first time in nearly ten long, hard years of 
sweat, blood, pain and sorrow.

Seeing there was no more threat of any danger, the little group of 
townspeople turned to leave the men in their private peace. Daniel then 
noticed a small knot of Anasazi who had also gathered in support of their 
Priest, just in case, and called to them. The older boys, Raven and 
Standing Coyote separated from the other young men and approached him. 
Briefly they discussed this most remarkable occurrence here on this most 
wondrous of nights. They all agreed this good thing proved to everyone 
that miracles can indeed and sometimes do happen when one least expects 
them.

Louigi, Hammond and Teal'c, arrived with the two wagons and teams to pick 
up the respective groups and return to Tok'ra Flats for the night. 
Daniel, being close to both of the men in question, felt confident enough 
to approach the pair to advise them of their departure and to make 
certain all would be well. He was briefly brought into the conversation 
between the two O'Neill men, hugged firmly by both of them and sent back 
to the waiting group of concerned friends.

He smiled as he entered the knot of onlookers. "Jack says to go on back 
to town, he'll come back later tonight or in the morning. I said I'd wait 
for him but I think they want to be alone together to talk for a while."

Judge Hammond cleared his throat. "I think that's probably true enough, 
son." He clapped Daniel on the shoulder. "Let's go home, it's Christmas."

                         *******************

The following morning, the denizens of the Emerald City were all gathered 
in the kitchen for a breakfast of eggs, ham, biscuits, and gravy. The 
coffee was hot and the topic was the Sheriff and his kin. Daniel was 
shaking his head, "Honestly, he never even talked about a brother in the 
priesthood. He's not an atheist by any means, he's just sort 
disillusioned with the church." The young man took another drink of 
coffee, "he's had too many hard things happen."

Louigi nodded, "Sometima eets'a hard, sometima your prayers eetsa answer 
but eetsa no the answer you need." 

"And sometimes, there's no answer at all." The Sheriff's voice came from 
the back door of the kitchen. 

The little breakfast group turned as one to see the two O'Neill men enter 
the kitchen. Louigi immediately stood up to offer his chair to the 
priest. Teal'c stood and Daniel nearly dropped his cup of coffee in his 
haste to get up. The sheriff glanced over at his younger brother, the 
priest, with an amused look that spoke volumes. 

Father Joe looked at Debi and Sam. "If you two get up, I will be 
insulted."

"Ah come on, Padre, somebody's gotta cook yer eggs and bacon." the saloon 
owner smiled up at him.

"I geet it," Louigi picked up his own dishes and headed for the cooking 
area. "It'sa no problem, I'ma trough anyway. Whadda yew wanna eat?"

The two men answered together, "Coffee."

Louigi looked at the two men in dismay. "Dat's a notta eatin, dat's a 
drink...wadda yew wanna eat. Eggasas, bacon, bisquits, soma da gravy anna 
coffee, milk, buttermilk or sweety tea." 

The sheriff smiled at the cook. "Louigi, whatever you cook is so good, I 
promise to eat hide, hooves, hair and horns."

"No, I godda no hornsa onna my eggs. Maybe soma hida, butta no horns.No 
gotta horns on de chickens, you gotta ver bad chikens inna Texas!"

While Louigi went to cook the breakfast, the Sheriff proceeded to make 
introductions of everyone to the Priest. Though Father Joe had briefly 
met all of the deputies he had no idea who these people were to his 
brother. He had seen Sam come out with Doc Fraiser, Teal'c from his 
driving the wagon for the school children and of course he knew Daniel 
from his volunteering out with the Mission's people, translating for them 
and helping them with their dealings with traders that come through the 
Mission to sell their wares. As he sat through the introductions, Joe 
could see the affection that his big brother had for this special family 
of his. Jack had told him of their history together and how they had at 
one time or another literally saved him body and soul.

After a while, Teal'c flashed the two men a rare smile then looked to the 
other deputies. "I will feed the horses this morning, Danieljackson, 
Samanthacarter, please continue your meal."

The two young people nodded at the large man and Daniel responded. 
"Thanks, Teal'c, I'll make it up to you." The ex-slave bowed slightly and 
left the kitchen. 

At Father Joe's distressed look in his direction of travel, Jack 
explained. "Don't worry about it, Joe. He's still a little shy around 
strangers. Freedom suits him, but he still has to unlearn some things. 
He'll be back soon." 

Debi made to get up from the table to help her partner in the kitchen, 
but the Sheriff smiled at her. "You might as well stay for the story, 
this way you won't be trying to bribe the deputies with chocolate 
frosting again."

She chuckled and glared playfully at Daniel who looked at her innocently 
and shook his head. "Not me, honest. I didn't say a word." 

Louigi came back in with a plate of fresh biscuits, two clean mugs and 
the full pot of coffee. He put the bread down, refilled all the cups and 
left the pot on the table.

Daniel, who had sat back down at the table, and Sam were listening like 
two new colts waiting for their mentor to tell his tale. Jack took his 
time getting started, sipping from his coffee mug and being particularly 
lavish with the butter on his and his brother's biscuits. Debi grinned at 
his antics and handed him the honey jar. He smiled sweetly at her and 
proceeded to doctor the hot bread with the sticky sweetness making a 
great show of licking his fingers at the time. 

Finally, Daniel could stand it not longer. "Jaaack, c'mon."

The two brothers looked at each other and the Sheriff finally took a bite 
from his bread and put it down. He glanced around the table and saw his 
friends waiting. Leaning back, he started his story.

"Daniel, you know about my son." He stated calmly. "For the rest of you, 
my son shot himself with my gun. It just about killed me," he looked over 
a Joe who was watching him sadly. "It did kill my marriage. Sara, my 
wife, left and went back east to her father. I just locked up the house 
one day and left everything behind." He looked over at Joe. "I didn't 
tell my parents or anyone else where I was going." He smiled sadly at the 
group. "Hell, I didn't know where I was going, other than away from 
there. Long story short, I wound up in Texas and in the Rangers. I met 
the Indian over there," he pointed at Daniel, "and things started to make 
sense again. But I never could bring myself to go back over old ground. I 
guess I was just trying to forget. Then the war came and things, things 
got all mixed up again." He glanced at his brother. "I didn't know Joe 
had taken the vows. Never even thought of it, I figgered all O'Neill's 
were just too plain onery."

Joe smiled warmly at his older sibling. "You were almost right, boyo."He 
agreed with a nod. "When I first approached Father George with my desire 
to become a priest, tha poor old man just about fainted in surprise. Not 
an O'Neill, lad. He'd say, surely not an O'Neill. T'would be an act 
against yer very nature. The O'Neill's are fighters, lad, not men of the 
cloth." Joe laughed merrily. "But I kept after him and he finally 
relented and sponsored me into the seminary."

Jack could only shake his head at his younger brother. "If I had been 
there, Joe-me-lad, I would have agreed with him. We do lots of things 
well, but peace-making seems a bit far of a reach."

Ms Debi looked at the two men sitting at her kitchen table and had to 
smile. "Oh, I don't know about all of that now. You and your deputies 
have been doing a purty fair shake at keeping the peace around here at 
Tok'ra Flats. And you Padre, have been doing one hel.uh, one fine job out 
thar at the Mission, teaching them kids how to handle themselves and 
about what's right and wrong." She looked at them seriously. "I'd say you 
both found your places in this ole world, and that's a fine thing to 
have."

Father Joe and Sheriff Jack looked at each other then at the friends 
gathered around them in the kitchen of the The Emerald City Saloon. The 
lawman raised his cup of coffee in salute "Amen."

The priest matched his actions. "And God bless us, everyone."

The end


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: Journey From Andersonville
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G

WARNINGS: language, minor character death, violence 

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, 
Series 

PAIRING: None

SUMMARY: A very different Alternate Universe, one set in the old west and 
in the Civil War. The townsfolk find out a little bit of history on their 
Sheriff and The Deputies of Tok'ra Flats. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

Chap 1

The kids of Tok'ra Flats were all sitting around the big pot bellied 
stove in the Emerald City Saloon. Actually they were all sitting around 
the Sheriff and Daniel who were sitting by the stove. The Sheriff had 
been overdoing it a little on his knee again. First, the influx of new 
citizens in Tok'ra Flats, then the Founder's Day Celebration had him up 
and walking everywhere, keeping a weather-eye on the businesses and 
making sure nothing disappeared that wasn't supposed to. As Celebrations 
went this one had been relatively tame. There had been no gunplay at all, 
no real brawls and only a few fights, no damage to building and just a 
drunken teenager or two. He'd let Tommy Ryon sleep off too much beer in 
the jail the other night just so he wouldn't have to go home and face his 
mothers wrath while still inebriated. And one of the younger riders, 
Graham Simmons, got happily drunk and tried to serenade Samantha Carter's 
hotel room window. But he'd just made Ferretti take the boy back to the 
bunkhouse over behind the livery stable and put him to bed. Simmons would 
be a long time living that one down.

But the final straw on his poor suffering leg had been the Hootenanny. 
O'Neill knew he shouldn't have danced at all, much less danced so much. 
But the music was grand, the company fair and the beer flowing. He even 
remembered Daniel suggesting that the dancing might not be such a good 
idea for him, but what was an Irishman to do after all.

"Tell us another story, Deputy Daniel. Please, please."

Daniel, who had been sitting next to the Sheriff with his cup of coffee, 
shook his head and stood up. "Remember, I told you I could only tell one 
story. Then I had to go and check on the town after that one was over." 
He replied reasonably to the children, " Well, it's over and I have to 
go."

At the disappointed exclamations from the children, Daniel looked back 
over his shoulder at Sheriff O'Neill. "Why don't you ask the Sheriff 
nicely? He can tell a tall tale or two himself." The audience looked at 
O'Neill dubiously. "Well, he can..." Daniel insisted and then gave his 
best friend a grin. 

Kayla Hammond looked around at the crowd. "He's tole me and Tessa stories 
when he usta babysit us long time ago." She stated matter of factly. 
"Back when we were liddle. He tells good stories, scary stories." 

A group of adults came into the dining room from the Saloon area. The 
parents began to sort the kids into the proper family groups, much to 
their dismay. 

After a moment, the parents had their children and headed home, at much 
complaint from the youngsters. This left Mayor Debi, Mz Angel, Mz Devra, 
and a new face that the Sheriff remembered from the night before.

Mayor Debi walked over to where O'Neill was relaxing with his foot 
elevated. "Thanks for watching the little ones while we had the City 
Council Meeting." She looked around. "Looks like Daniel deserted you."

"No, he just left. He's doing the building checks now but he did most of 
the work tonight." the sheriff chuckled. "Daniel was telling them 
stories. They do love to hear all his fables and legends and such."

Debi nodded. "Well, they are interesting. Do you think he'd tell us gals 
a story sometime?"

The Sheriff looked at her with a smile. "What kind of story do you want 
to hear, young lady?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Jack O'Neill." She laughed, and 
looked over her shoulder at the newcomer. "Mz Lewie, have you met the 
Sheriff yet?"

"We met late the other night when I got into town." Lewie replied 
agreeably. "Good to see you again, Sheriff O'Neill."

"You too, Ma'm. You're the new newspaper lady aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm still taking stock in what I have and what I'll want and need 
to get things going."

Debi looked at her in thought. "Well, be sure to tell Mz Angel here. She 
indicated her friend, the shopkeeper. "She runs the General Store and CA 
can special order things for you and have them here in sometimes in a 
month or two for you. She has connections in both Corpus Christi and San 
Francisco. Believe it or not, you can shop the world here in Tok'ra 
Flats, right here in the General Store."

Lewie looked at the slender brown haired woman in surprise. "Really?"

Angel nodded at her. "Of course, dear. You just give me a list. It 
doesn't always come on the next delivery, but if you're willing to wait a 
few weeks almost anything is possible." She reached over and patted the 
other woman's hand. "Always ready to help out a new business, and a new 
friend."

"Oh, yeah." The sheriff commented. "There's no telling what will happen 
here at Tok'ra Flats, anything's possible. Daniel says there's a little 
bit of magic left in the hills from the old ways and who am I to 
challenge his beliefs." He smiled fondly at the doorway that his friend 
had left through. "I'm here today because of them."

Louis Ferretti took that moment to come into dining room through that 
very same door. He looked hopefully at the Mayor and owner of the Emerald 
City. "Anything left in the kitchen, Mz Debi?" He asked.

"I think all that's left is some stone cold biscuits and honey. Lou."

"Coffee?"

"See if Daniel left you any in the pot there and I'll go get the 
biscuits. I can always make another pot of coffee." The tall, middle-aged 
woman left the room for the kitchen. In a moment, she returned with two 
dozen biscuits on a tray and a big pot of honey blended butter on the 
side. 

The Captain of the Riders had already started more water to boil for 
another pot of coffee by putting a very large kettle on top of the pot 
bellied stove. "There was some left, but..."

"Thank you, sir." She nodded to his actions as she pulled one of the 
smaller tables over next to the stove and put the metal tray down. Then 
she sat in the chair Daniel had vacated. "Whoosh, I'm tired. This 
Founder's Day Celebratin' is hard work on a body."

Jack smiled at her. "Don't I know it." He rubbed his thigh above the 
slightly swollen knee and smiled as Lou came over with the coffeepot and 
freshened his almost empty cup.

"How's the leg, Jack?"

"Oh, you know, cold weather...does it every time." He smiled up at his 
old friend. "Thanks for the refill."

Mz Lewie taking a cup of the coffee from Lou looked at the Sheriff. "What 
happened to your knee?"

O'Neill shook his head. "War."

Lou finished passing out the remaining coffee, added some fresh grounds 
to the huge drip-o-lator on the sideboard and poured the now boiling 
water into the reservoir on the top. Fresh coffee would be ready in a few 
minutes. The small slight Rider Captain came back, picked up a biscuit 
and took a bite of it. "It's a good thing Siler and I rode into 
Tishamingo that day." He said with a grin. "Who would of thought our 
Daniel..."

"Lou, think who you're talking about." O'Neill leaned back in his chair.

About this time the ladies Athene, Babs, Jo and Majel came into the 
dining room and pulled up some chairs to join the circle around the 
stove. 

"It's cold out there tonight, people." Mz Devra commented to everyone, 
rubbing her hands in front of herself basking in the stove's heat. The 
other ladies got some of the fresh coffee and settled in by the stoves 
heat also.

From the kitchen area, Louigi suddenly made an appearance. The young 
Italian cook swept in bearing another tray laden with more biscuits and 
some donuts. 

Debi looked at her partner, "And if you don't believe in magic, somebody 
say "I'm hungry" in front of Louigi here and food will appear." The 
small, dark man flashed a grin at the group. "I'ma cook, so I cooka. 
It'sa no beeg deel."

The newspaper lady was taking in all the action going on around her, but 
she remembered something said earlier on and her reporter's instincts 
were piqued. "So, Sheriff you were in the War?"

O'Neill took another sip of coffee. "Well, I was in most of it. I kind of 
sat the last part out."

"What do you mean by that, Sheriff?" Lewie pressed sensing something that 
might lead to a story."

"Well, I really don't remember it." Jack looked at Ferretti. "If you want 
to ride this hoss, Lou you'll have to saddle him up to get the rodeo 
started."

Lou shrugged. "It's your story Jack. I don't even know what all happened, 
but I'll be glad to do the beginning chorus."

Sheriff O'Neill nodded. "Might as well, everybody's here that really 
wants to know." He looked around the group. "But Mz Lewie, please no 
newspaper story on this if you don't mind. Friends are one thing, but 
your readers, well, they don't have a need to know this little bit of my 
history."

Lewie nodded. Now was the time to build trust with her new neighbors by 
not telling everything she found out. But the information would be great 
as background for any human-interest story that might come along later 
on. "All right, Sheriff, I understand. I run a newspaper not a history 
class. This is all off the record between friends, just a little 
background music as if were."

The Sheriff looked at her for a long minute, as if making a decision 
about her personally. He finally nodded. Lou Ferretti started the story:

                         *******************

Chapter 2

Daniel Jackson was chopping wood out back of his cabin when he heard the 
sounds of horses coming up the dirt road that led to his farm. The young 
man came around the side of his log cabin and looked up to see two men 
riding worn out looking horses on the trail that ran in front of his 
yard. His heart leaped immediately as he recognized his old boyhood 
acquaintances, Lou Ferretti and Dave Siler. Daniel put the ax down 
against the cabin wall and hurried out to the opening in the split rail 
fence that surrounded the yard. "Ho, friends! Welcome! Welcome home."

Ferretti's bay gelding stopped of it's own accord when Daniel approached 
them. "Daniel? Is that you, boy?" A warm smile split the man's face. 
"It's sure good to see you again."

Seeing them up close, Daniel noticed that they looked as tired and worn 
as their horses. "And you my friend." He smiled a welcoming greeting up 
at him and reached to clasp hands with his old acquaintance. "Get down. 
Let me get you some water from the well. Are you hungry?"

Ferretti glanced over at his saddle partner. Siler sat silently slumped 
over in his saddle. 

Daniel went over to his other friend and put his hand on the older man's 
let to get his attention. "Siler?" Finally the thin, worn man looked at 
him. "Siler," The younger man said softly. "Will you get down and visit?"

Siler looked at him for a moment before reacting to his presence. 
"Daniel?"

"Yes?" Daniel smiled a welcome, took the man's horse's reins in one hand 
and reached up with the other.

The tall man straightened on his horse and looked around. "We're here?" 
The man seemed a little confused.

"You're at my cabin, get down and eat." Daniel answered him gently.

Siler looked down at him, recognition dawning on the man's tired face . 
"That'd be mighty fine, Daniel, mighty fine."

Sometime later, after a simple meal of fried ham and bread, the men 
started to recouperate a bit and talk. They were headed back to Texas, 
back to San Antonio to find out about their jobs as Texas Rangers now 
that they were back from the war. As they spoke of their experiences in 
the army, Daniel could only shake his head at their stories of horror and 
bloodshed. He grew quiet as they talked, thinking of someone else that 
had gone...and had not yet returned. Finally, he could wait no longer. 
"Lou, have you seen Jack?" Daniel asked softly. "Do you know where he 
is?"

The ex-soldier could only shake his head. "Honestly, Daniel, I couldn't 
say. I haven't seen him since the battle of Cedar Creek last October."

Siler looked at the young man sadly. "He was shot, Daniel. His horse went 
down and we tried to go to him.... But the fighting shifted...the Rebs 
took the ground where he was at."

The officer picked up the thread from the sergeant, "We looked for him 
after...but we couldn't find him." Ferretti sighed, "We found his horse, 
gut shot, and I put him out of his misery. But, well, we never saw the 
Captain again." Lou reached over and patted the young man's knee in 
sympathy. 

"But, you didn't see his body?" Daniel commented softly.

"No, I didn't." Ferretti replied, sadly.

"We heard that he'd been captured," Siler spoke up softly. "Taken 
prisoner and gone to Andersonville but..."

Daniel looked up hopefully, "What is Andersonville? Where is it?"

Ferretti looked at him curiously. "Well, Daniel, it's a town in Georgia. 
They have, well, they had a prison there for captured enemy soldiers. But 
Daniel, for all I've heard, it's a hellhole." Lou continued on, shaking 
his head at the youngster. " Most wounded men died there, and I never 
heard him spoke of. Nobody even mentioned his name."

"But you never heard he died there?" Daniel looked at the men solemnly.

Ferretti looked over at Siler who only shrugged his shoulders. "No, we 
never heard that."

                         *******************

The next morning, Daniel knocked on the doorway that led into his 
grandfather's cabin. A-ga-ta-na-i We-ha-li (Wise Eagle) called out in a 
quavering voice. The young man answered, ducked under the low doorway and 
approached the elderly Indian.

"Ho, Ni-ta Wa-ya." (Young Coyote) Wise Eagle greeted his young Grandson. 
He noted the young one was uncharacteristically quiet this day.

"Ho, E-ni-si." (Grandfather)

"Sit and eat." The elderly man indicated the shelves over the wood stove. 

"I do not hunger for food, Grandfather. I come for your wisdom." Daniel 
pulled up a low stool next to the old man and sat down.

"That is a cheap price for your company, Grandson."

"That it is freely given does not diminish its value."

The elderly man peered down at his adopted white grandson. "What wisdom 
do you seek from me today, Wa-ya?

After the fashion of his people, Daniel spoke directly. "Grandfather, the 
war in the east is over. I saw Ferretti and Siler on the road to Tejas. 
Ta-wa-di (Hawk) was not with them."

The old man nodded looking at his grandsons' face. "Did they say where 
the Hawk is?"

Daniel nodded. "Ferretti says he must be dead. They saw him captured 
during a great battle and have not heard of him since."

"But you do not believe this is so?" He looked at the young man at his 
feet.

"No, Grandfather, I do not. Siler said he was taken to a prison. The Hawk 
does not die so easily, I think."

"Maybe, but to cage a hawk..." Wise Eagle looked sadly at the young man. 
"is not a good thing to do."

"A hawk may be freed, Grandfather."

"So," the old man looked at him with his sharp eyes, knowing what must 
come. "You are going."

"Yes, Grandfather, I want to."

"No, You have to. But," He raised his hand in warning, "but do not be 
disappointed when you find a grave at the end of your journey."

"I will not, Grandfather. But, I must know." Daniel spoke softly at the 
knowledge of this truth.

The old Indian sat a long time in thought, then finally spoke. "Coyote, 
you have lost much in your short life. First your white parents, then 
your Indian brother and your young wife. You do not want to lose your 
friend, Hawk. But he may also have gone under. Do not break your heart 
again."

"And he may be hurt with no one to look after him and no way to send for 
someone."

"Or he may not want to come."

Of that Daniel was sure. "He would come."

"Yes, I think he would." The old man nodded at his grandson. "When do you 
go?"

"I will go tomorrow. I go to my father's house to give the cabin to him."

The old man looked at him thoughtfully. "To succeed you must do two 
things. First, put aside your buckskins. You must wear white man's 
clothing." At Daniel's nod of understanding this, he continued. "Do not 
take the spotted pony. Take the red mare and the brown pony."

Daniel looked at him in confusion. "Yes, Grandfather. But, why?"

"You will go amongst the white man. The spotted pony is too young; he 
would not understand the ways of the people you will meet. And they will 
want him; you will not be able to stop them from taking him. The brown 
pony is plain but wise in the ways of the white villages; he will carry a 
pack or pull a travois. The red mare is strong and fast, she will carry 
you safely in your journey. They will be your friends. Do not sell, trade 
or allow them to be taken from you." Wise Eagle held the young man's eyes 
with his. "They will know the way home, for both Coyote and Hawk." 

The young man saw that his Grandfather was wise. Feather would be in 
danger of theft. The other two would be better trained and less 
conspicuous during his journey. He would do as he said.

                         *******************

Daniel Jackson stopped his two ponies and looked down the long dirt road 
that led to a shallow valley. It was the end of his long journey. He had 
been traveling for almost two months, finding his way by following the 
morning sun and asking directions. He reckoned that he had come more than 
a thousand miles but he was finally here. He just hoped that he wasn't 
too late.

He had stopped at the town several miles down the road and had confirmed 
that it was indeed Andersonville. A kindly storekeeper had given him 
directions to the prison where the Union soldiers had been kept. The man 
had shaken his head and wished him luck. Now that he was here, he was 
almost afraid to go to the enclosure. The whole trip was for the purpose 
of finding his friend, Jack O'Neill. If O'Neill were dead it would have 
all been for nothing. Daniel wasn't sure he could deal with another loss 
in his life but he must find the truth of it.

But if Jack needed his help, he would do the man no good if he didn't 
find him. So he kneed the red mare forward and they followed the muddy 
dirt road towards the stockade enclosure he could see in the distance.

As they approached, Daniel saw with sinking heart that the place was 
empty. The gates sagged open revealing an open field still littered with 
the detritus of man. Sticks, canvas, and wooden framework were in various 
stages of deterioration and rot. What had once been a stream stank of 
human waste. The two horses snorted at the stench and filth they were 
treading on as they entered the encampment. There was nothing here. He 
was too late.

He turned his horses and rode out the unhinged and sagging gate. Surely, 
there must have been records kept, or someone with knowledge of the men 
who had lived, suffered and died here. Their names should not have been 
lost, to die here so alone and unremarked.

"Dey ain't no one lef here, Suh." A voice seemingly came out of nowhere. 
"Dey don lef out or been took out."

He turned around in the saddle and looked back at a corpse of trees. He 
saw an ancient black man limping towards him. "Where were they taken?" 
Daniel asked the man that had spoken to him. He was coming down the hill, 
limping profoundly, and using a carved stick as a cane.

"Dey's eder taken to de cemetery," he pointed broadly to another portion 
of the valley, "or dey taken to de hors-pital."

"This horse-pital, is it a place of healing?" The young man dismounted, 
and led the ponies forward to meet him.

The elderly man halted at his approach. "Fer some, fer some hit's only a 
place to give up de rest of dey lifs." He shook his head. "Whar you from, 
white boy? How comes you want ta know bout dat place?"

Daniel smiled slightly. It was the first time he'd been called white 
since he'd crossed the Mississippi River. "I've come from the Cher-ro-kee 
Nation in the west. I come looking for a friend who was here. Would you 
know..."?

"Naw suh, I shore don know nuthin bout this place cept it was bad 
misserble." The man leaned heavily on his stick cane. "We watched 'em 
take out the Yankee soldiers when de war ended. Mostly, they lets 'em go. 
Some they just took 'em to de cemetery." He shook his head. "Only a few 
went dat way." He pointed on down the road with his cane. "And dey stink 
o death." The old man looked up at the tall youngster. "You'd best be 
gitting back to your Injuns, boy. Dey ain't nuthin here for you."

"If you cannot help me, then I have to go without it." He turned and 
swung up on the mare. 

"Boy, if you go to that hors-pital place, you be kerful. There's sickness 
there, you be kerful and don ketch it none. Hit's the devils own work."

                         *******************

Daniel followed the man in uniform down the narrow, dark hallway. There 
were rooms on either side, some with doors, some not. In each room on a 
pallet or blankets or perhaps an old rotting mattress lay a skeleton of 
what had used to be a human being. Some were injured, some sick and some 
he was sure, was all ready dead.

He felt guilty to be healthy here.

Finally, the Steward pointed to another hallway. "In heah, there are some 
Yankee Officers. I don't recollect their names ifn I ever knew them. But 
ifn he is heah, he'd be one o' them." Daniel nodded, and started forward. 
The man did not accompany him. He glanced into the first room; the man 
there was small and dark almost Spanish looking. In the next room was a 
red haired man, the next an old bald man who he was sure was dead by the 
smell and the flies. 

Finally, in the last room, he saw what he was afraid he'd find. 

The man lay on a layer of woolen horse blankets. At least Daniel thought 
it was his friend, but the change was so dramatic, it had taken him a 
moment to recognize him. A tall man, Jack O'Neill had always been 
slender, now he was emaciated. He appeared so much smaller than Daniel 
remembered him, but the profile was the same and the scar across the 
eyebrow familiar. The light sandy hair had faded to a mousy brown color 
liberally flecked with gray. Daniel approached him fearing at first that 
he was dead. But as the young man drew closer, he could see the thin 
chest rise and fall with shallow breaths.

He knelt on the floor next to the sick man. "Jack? Jack O'Neill. It's me, 
Daniel. I've come to take you home." He reached out and touched Jack's 
hair. It was stiff and harsh with dirt. As he drew his fingers across his 
friend's forehead, the man turned slightly to look vacantly up at Daniel. 
"Jack, do you know me? Do you remember who I am?"

The dark brown eyes focused on his face, as if trying to read a difficult 
script. They blinked, once, twice then a flicker of recognition. 

"Jack, its Daniel Jackson. I've come for you."

Jack frowned, as if in concentration. His mouth moved, but no sound came.

Daniel put his hand on the rough unshaven cheek, "Jack."

Finally, a soft whisper, "Daniel?'

"Yes, Jack. It's Daniel."

Tears filled the older man's eyes, "Danny, you dead too?"

Daniel smiled through his own tears and grasped the older man's hand that 
lay on top of the filthy blanket. "No, Jack. I'm alive. You are alive. 
I've come to take you home."

"Home?"

"Yes, da-ni-ta-ga (blood brother), I've come to take you home, to the 
tsi-da-na-lu (family).

"My a-do-nv-do? (spirit)

"Tla, ta-wa-di. Ne-hi." (No, Hawk. You.). He leaned over his friend, so 
the man could see him clearly and know he was real. "I will go and 
prepare the horses." He stroked his friend's face again before he stood 
up. "I will be back in a short time."

Daniel stood up, regretfully releasing Jack's hand. At the older man's 
forlorn expression he said, "Do not worry, I will come back." He could 
feel the brown eyes follow him as he turned and left the room.

Going to where the attendant had returned to his office, Daniel entered 
without knocking. "I have found him. We will go now."

The man looked at him without concern. "You know he's got the sickness." 
He stated with an unconcerned look. "That's why he's here. You take him, 
he'll die and most likely you too."

Daniel looked at him with disdain. "I know he is ill, but it is an 
illness of bad water and worse food. I will take him and he will live. I 
leave him here, he will die."

"Suit yerownself, boy." He took in the tall, young man, standing there 
with determination in his blue eyes. "It don't make me no nevermind. My 
job is to watch 'em til they die. That's why they're here, so they kin 
git them peace and care until they no longer need it. If they was gonna 
get well, they'd uh took 'em when they opened the camp. I'm jest a 
saying...he's gonna die."

The young man didn't reply to his words. He merely nodded. "I will make a 
travois, and we will leave in a short while."

The man nodded and looked down at his ledger. He didn't look up as he 
heard the door close. 

Daniel left the stinking building and went to his two horses. Untying 
them, he took them up the road away to a wooded area not far from the 
hospital. He scanned the trees until he found what he was looking for, 
then took his skinning knife out of his belt. Dropping the reins, he cut 
down the two saplings he'd chosen and pared the small limbs off leaving 
them as poles. He drug them over to the brown gelding. Using rawhide from 
his pack, he secured the lengths of wood to the pommel and stirrup 
leathers of the old macheer saddle. Then he pulled out the canvas he had 
been using for his wickiup and secured it with more of the leather 
lashings. The pony stood patiently. He had pulled the Indian sleds before 
and knew what was to come. Once Daniel had finished, he led the two 
horses back to the front door of the building.

The Steward met him at the porch and followed him silently as the young 
man strode quickly into the building and down the hallway. Without 
hesitation, Daniel went to the room where his friend lay. Jack had fallen 
asleep again, the failing sunlight filtering in through the filthy window 
emphasizing his wasted frame and gaunt face. "How ya gonna git him out to 
tha hoss?" the man asked unconcernedly.

Daniel ignored him completely, knelt down by the filthy pallet and 
uncovered O'Neill. The man's clothing was as dirty as the surrounding 
blankets. One leg of the trousers had been split up the side to Jack's 
hip, revealing an encrusted bandage tied around the swollen knee. It had 
obviously been on the wound a long time. The young man closed his eyes 
for a moment, consciously willing himself to not strike the man who was 
lolling in the doorway, the man who was supposed to have been caring for 
the suffering men in his charge. 

When he managed to quell his anger enough to resist a killing, he slipped 
his arms under O'Neill's shoulders and legs. Standing up, lifting the 
slight weight of the wasted body of his friend, he turned and carried him 
out of the dark room, out of the stinking building, out of imprisonment, 
out of the nightmare and out into the late afternoon sunshine of freedom.

The two horses raised their heads and pricked their ears at their young 
master and his burden. The red mare snorted at the unfamiliar smell but 
Brown pony recognized the odor of sickness and lowered his head to see 
what his responsibility would be. He had done this before for many other 
warriors, this was merely one more. 

Daniel lay O'Neill down onto the canvas bed of the travois. He adjusted 
the limp body of his friend to a comfortable position and then carefully 
covered him with a blanket and secured him to the sled so he wouldn't 
shift position. 

Once he was satisfied that his friend was as safe and comfortable as he 
could make him for now, Daniel turned and picked up the reins to both 
horses and started to lead them towards the road.

"Where you a'goin now?" The Steward called after him.

"As far away from here as I can get." Daniel called back to the man as he 
mounted the red mare and led them all away.

                         *******************

An hour later as the sun was beginning to set; Daniel stopped the horses 
in a clearing off the road. A small stream of clean clear water sparked 
through a rocky bed. there he began to set up camp. They had traveled 
continuously since they left the hospital; he had wanted to get Jack as 
far away from the sight and smell of the foul buildings that he had spent 
too much of his life and spirit at. The evening sky was clear and by the 
light of a full moon, he got a fire going and the blankets spread out 
under the shelter of the trees. When the water boiled he made some coffee 
and started some jerky boiling to serve as a soup broth. He had to get 
fluids and nourishment into Jack so the man could gather his strength to 
throw off his body's sickness. Daniel also knew that tomorrow he would 
have to find a safe place to set up a semi-permanent camp for his friend 
to rest and recuperate. Jack was in no way able to travel in this 
condition.

Daniel moved his friend to the makeshift bed and Jack woke momentarily at 
the handling. Daniel soothed him back to sleep with his voice. Tomorrow, 
when he had the light, he would have to find a way to clean him and take 
proper care of his wounds. 

                         *******************

The next day dawned bright and clear. It was going to be a warm day, and 
he had a lot to do. Jack was still in his semi-conscious state, lying 
quietly in the gentle dappling of morning sunlight. Daniel boiled some 
water for coffee and started a pot of beans to cook. Breakfast for him 
was some tortillas that he made with some of the boiled jerky in them. 
Later he would search for other foods in the woods and perhaps hunt for 
meat, but he didn't want to leave Jack alone for that long a time yet.

After he finished eating, he emptied the coffeepot and built up the fire 
again to heat some more water. Then, he followed the little stream down a 
way until he found what he was looking for, a bee tree with a hive in its 
trunk. Returning to the camp he checked on Jack. The man was still 
sleeping. Daniel pulled a burning log out of the flames and then returned 
to the hive, carrying it carefully. Covering as much of his face as he 
could with a bandana, he started smoking the bees into a stupor using the 
smoldering limb. After a short while he was able to rob them of a little 
of their hard-earned honey. Carefully wrapping the sticky runny honeycomb 
into a clean bandana he had brought for this purpose, he returned back to 
the campfire. The water in the coffeepot was boiling so he took it off 
the fire. Now, he was ready.

Daniel uncovered the sleeping man and proceeded to cut the ragged 
garments from Jack's too thin body. He waited awhile for the hot water to 
cool and added enough of the boiled water left from last night to make it 
comfortable. The medicine man from the village had taught his pupils that 
the sacred fire's heat purified the water and made it safer. Then Daniel 
tore his oldest shirt into pieces and began to clean the dirt from his 
friend's abused body. At the first touch of the wet rag, Jack appeared to 
wake up but he didn't say anything. He just watched Daniel through 
slitted eyes, as if he didn't believe any of it to be real. He finished 
bathing his friend and then cleaned and treated some of the minor 
injuries. After he dressed the unresponsive man in one of his extra 
shirts and a makeshift breechclout, Daniel began to meticulously clean 
the large infected gunshot wound on Jack's leg. He used much warmer water 
there to soak and remove as much of the dead flesh from the wound as he 
could. Once he was satisfied with his work, Daniel pounded the honeycomb 
in its bandana to make a poultice. This he applied to the raw oozing 
wound then wrapped it in more clean cloths. He then gently covered his 
friend's body again and went back to the fire to tend the cooking beans 
and to boil more water.

All his chores completed, Daniel sat down on a log he had drawn up to the 
fire as a seat and ate his own meal and drank a cup of coffee. He was 
tired from the stress of his initial treatment of the wound. Daniel knew 
if the man hadn't been Jack O'Neill, he would have not survived this 
long. But he also had confidence that Ta-wa-di, the hawk, would fly free 
again.

                         *******************

Chap 3

Later that day, when the food was cooked, Daniel went to try to wake his 
friend. Jack had been in and out of consciousness all afternoon. Once, 
the young man had thought that he had stopped breathing, but it was just 
very shallow as if the abused body of his sick friend was using as little 
energy as possible. He hated to wake him, but Daniel knew he had to eat 
and drink or Jack's body would simply quit.

Then he put the pot back on to boil more of the water. He put some small 
pieces of jerky in the liquid and covered it with the other plate. After 
it had boiled for a short while, he poured some of the liquid and the 
meat into the cup. He carried it back to where Jack lay and offered the 
warm liquid to the man.

"Jack, you must awake and eat." He patted the thin face gently. "Jack. 
Wake up for me." Finally, after much coaxing, the older man seemed to 
fight his way back from a long distance. "Jack, it's me Daniel."

"Daniel?" The dark brown eyes opened and focused on him with a quizzical 
look. "What are you doing here?"

He leaned down so he could hear Jack more clearly. "I came to get you. 
Ferretti and Siler came through the village, Jack. They said you'd been 
wounded at a battle called Cedar Creek. When you didn't come home to us, 
I came looking." He put his hand on his friend's cheek, not only to judge 
his fever, but to feel his spirit.

"Where...where are we?" O'Neill asked confusedly.

"I don't know a name; it is out from the road so that no one will bother 
us."

"Town?"

"Outside of Andersonville." Daniel turned to pick up the cup of water. 
"You must drink, Jack."

"Andersonville?" He managed before he took a swallow of the broth.

"Shush, now. You must drink a little at least." He coaxed the older man 
into a few more sips. 

Jack shook his head and closed his eyes. "So, tired." He murmured. "I'm 
just so tired."

Daniel put the cup to him again. "Drink a little more for me, Jack."

"All right, I am thirsty." He admitted and managed a little more of the 
warm liquid. But his strength failed him and exhausted, he lay back on 
the blankets. "No, I don't want anymore." Jack murmured at his 
attentions. "Just leave me as I am."

Daniel looked at him in dismay then hardened his voice. "Hear me, Ta-wa-
di. I did not ride my ponies for forty days across the great river and 
into this place to watch you die in my camp. I came to get you and take 
you home. You must drink this and grow strong."

Jack managed to open his eyes again at the tone of his young friend's 
voice. "What?"

"Drink!" Daniel supported the older man's head to help him drink the 
broth. 

Jack obeyed the order without question, finishing almost the whole cup. 
Then he lay back against the blankets, looking up at Daniel with 
bewilderment etched on his face. 

The younger man studied him, searching, hoping for something. "Jack, what 
do you want?"

The eyebrows knitted together. "Daniel?"

Daniel smiled, "Yes, Jack. It's Daniel. How do you feel?"

"Daniel, I don't...how did..." He looked perplexed.

"I came; it's all right. You're ill, but you'll get well." He soothed his 
friend with voice and hand. "Just know this, you're with me...you're 
safe."

Jack nodded, accepting, his eyes closing.

Daniel sat by his friend for a time, watching the older man sleep. 
Finally, he had to go and collect more wood for the fire. As he began to 
move around, he saw someone hiding in the trees. Daniel casually went to 
the edge of the clearing and bent as if to pick up a broken branch. He 
then slipped into the trees and circled back around, drawing his pistol 
from its holster. When he saw whom the person was he allowed it to return 
to its holster. 

The old black man that had given him directions to the hospital was 
standing on the exposed side of the tree, peering into the clearing. He 
was looking for Daniel.

"What do you want, old man?" Daniel asked quietly.

The man tuned around using his crutch for balance and looked at him 
suspiciously. "I was looking fer you, white boy."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Jest to see ifn I'se right."

Daniel nodded. "You were." He indicated the camp. "Do you want to eat?"

The man looked surprised at the invitation. "Eat?'

"I have food; do you want to eat?"

"I could eat a bite." He pointed at the sleeping man at the fire's edge. 
"He don't got the sickness, do he?"

"No, he's only ill from an old wound, no food and neglect. You cannot 
catch his sickness." Daniel assured him. "He will be well in time."

"Well, that's fine, jest fine." the old man looked up a Daniel. "You some 
kinda med-cine man?"

Daniel smiled down at him and motioned for him to follow. "No, only a 
friend." He led the way into the camp. 

When the old man had settled himself down on a log, Daniel dished him out 
a plate of beans and handed him a tortilla that he'd made earlier. His 
guest started eating with gusto.

Daniel went over and laid a hand on the sleeping man's forehead. He 
frowned; the fever hadn't broken yet. He needed to get better food for 
Jack, but he couldn't leave him alone long enough to hunt. He glanced 
over at the old man sitting at his fire, wondering if he could trust him. 
"What is your name?"

"Dey called me Caesar when I was a young un, but when I got old dey 
called me ole Mose." The man smiled at the young man.

"Which do you prefer?" Daniel asked curiously.

"Hit don matter to me." The man answered easily. "You kin call me 
anything you wants."

"All right, Moses. I am called Daniel," He indicated the sleeping man. 
"This is Jack." He thought a while. "Moses, I have to hunt for fresh 
meat. Will you stay with him?"

The man nodded. "I kin stay till tonight, den I gots to go."

"Good, just keep the fire going and the beans from boiling out and 
burning. I'll be back soon. 

                         *******************

In a few hours, Daniel had returned to camp with a raccoon. Moses was 
still there, tending the fire. He watched the hunter begin to skin the 
animal.

"You gonna eat dat?"

He looked up at the old man. "Yes." He replied. "The gv-li will give us 
meat for dinner." 

Moses looked at him, "You not a reg'lar white man is you?"

Daniel had to smile. "No, I suppose not."

Old Moses returned it. "I got a frend. I'm gonna go see him tomorry. 
Maybe he kin git you all a place to stay that's safe."

Daniel looked up and nodded as he finished the chore. "Moses, do you know 
someone who can use this skin?" At the man's nod, he rolled it up the raw 
layer inside. "I cannot tan it here; maybe it will serve someone else."

Moses accepted the pelt. "I'm gonna sent you someone tomorry. You jest 
wait, young Daniel. You'll see."

                         *******************

That afternoon, Daniel had prepared the meat with some wild onions he'd 
found and some of his precious salt. They couldn't remain here much 
longer with Jack as sick as he was. Earlier he'd gone and robbed the bee 
tree again, pulling another piece of the honeycomb out. This time he got 
enough to use as a sweetener on their food and in their coffee.

He boiled the water again and wiped his friend's still feverish body 
down. Jack was awake this time and was able to move around a bit on 
Daniel's instructions, making him easier to tend to so intimately. 
Finally, when he was settled back into the bedroll, the gruesome wound 
was unwrapped, cleaned and treated again. It was still angry and red, but 
Daniel knew the infection would take a long time to draw out, though he 
thought it did look a little better. It would be a slow healing process. 
After the nerve-racking procedure, both of the men needed rest. He banked 
the fire and spread his bedroll next to his friend, trusting the horses 
to warm him if anyone approached the camp.

                         *******************

The next day, Daniel was preparing the noon meal when he heard what 
sounded like a heavy wagon coming towards their campsite. Someone with a 
deep male voice spoke to the team. Then he heard light footsteps coming 
towards their campsite. Finally, an unfamiliar feminine voice called out. 
"Daniel? Are you there? Daniel?"

He stood up, with his pistol in his hand. No one but Moses knew he was 
here. It must be his friends. "Over here, here by the creek." He answered

The brush parted to reveal a tall, slender woman. She appeared to be a 
little older than he, with blonde hair caught up in braids. She was 
wearing a severe light blue dress that appeared clean but worn. When she 
finally saw him, she smiled. "You must be Daniel." At his nod, she 
continued. "My name is Samantha Carter. Old Mose came and told us you 
needed help with your friend, that he was sick." She looked around him. 
"Is that him? What's wrong with him?"

Daniel looked at her carefully. "My name is Daniel Jackson." He indicated 
the sleeping man behind him. That's Jack O'Neill. I just got him out of 
the tsu-ni-tlv-gi--u-na-ni-tlv-di." He frowned at his difficulty with the 
language barrier. "The sick people house."

The woman started towards where Jack lay. Daniel stepped in front of her. 
She looked at him unhappily. "I can't help him unless you let me."

"I don't know who you are." The young man replied firmly. "Jack has had 
quite enough help from people here, as you can see."

She looked at him in confusion. "I thought you wanted help."

Daniel was torn. This woman was offering to help, but he didn't know her 
enough to trust her totally. "I need shelter for him. He will not be able 
to travel for several weeks. I can care for him, but I need to be able to 
leave him in a safe dry place when I hunt for meat."

She smiled at him. "I understand, you're not from here. What went on in 
the sick house, the hospital, is not normal. Nothing is normal here 
anymore." She looked at the ill man. "He was one of the prisoners at Camp 
Sumter wasn't he?"

"I don't know what it was called, but yes he was there." Daniel nodded. 
"Then, they left him at the hos-pi-tal. I found him there." Making a 
decision he stepped back and allowed her to pass but followed and watched 
her closely. "The man said he would die. He will not."

She knelt down next to Jack then looked up from the man to his rescuer. 
"He is very weak. What's wrong with him?"

"As you see. He was starved, and has an infected wound. But he does not 
have the rotting sickness yet and he still has his teeth and hair so he 
is not too close to death."

She nodded beginning to be able to follow his speech pattern. "No 
cholera, or scurvy yet and no gangrene yet."

"Miss Carter..."

"Call me Sam." She stood up. "We can take you to my farm. There's only me 
and Teal'c there now, there's plenty of room. I can put your friend in a 
bed, and we have some vegetables from the garden and some medicinal herbs 
for the wound. You say you can hunt?" At Daniel's nod she continued. 
"There's hardly any game left, most people hunted it out during the war 
but there's varmints that can be shot and eaten if you can kill them. It 
would be a fair trade for me."

"I can pay a little," Daniel agreed. "I think a month, for Jack to grow 
strong enough to travel. Then we will go."

"Fair enough." Sam Carter stood up and nodded. "I have a wagon. If we 
leave now you can sleep in a bed tonight." At his nod, she went to the 
edge of the clearing. "Teal'c, please come and help us."

"Yes, Samantha." The deep booming voice answered her. A very large black 
man came into the clearing at her call. He was over six foot four and 
weighed around two hundred and fifty pounds at Daniel's guess. Daniel was 
tall at six foot, but this man dwarfed him in both size and girth. He 
looked around at the campsite. "Are they coming with us?"

"Yes," she replied. "Can we get the wagon closer? So we can break camp 
now and get them home with us."

Teal'c nodded and went back through the trees to bring a mismatched team 
of an old mare and a small mule pulling a large buckboard into the 
campsite. Daniel looked at the mare, she was obviously pregnant, her 
belly swollen with the foal, even though her hips and spine protruded and 
every rib could be counted.

"She should not be working this late." Daniel commented.

Sam nodded. "I know, but these are the only two animals that they left 
me. Dolly here is old and due in a few more weeks, and Lilly was too 
small for them to want for their army." She shrugged. "They took the 
other horses and mules."

The young man nodded. "She is healthy though, could be fatter." He 
glanced back at his two ponies. "I would offer them to help, but they are 
not broke to harness."

"It's not far," Teal'c assured him. "I would not overwork her. The colt 
will be of value to Samantha."

Daniel nodded. "You were a slave?" he asked.

"Her father owned me. He was a good enough master, not like some. When 
the war was over and we were all set free I was to go to seek a ship, to 
go back to my home; but I saw that she was alone and unprotected. I will 
only stay until she is safe. Then I will go."

Sam smiled at Daniel's expression. "Teal'c was a slave when I came back 
to my father's farm, but now he is my friend. Without him...." She 
shrugged. "Well, when the others came I would have lost...everything."

"The others?"

She turned her face to hide the tears. Teal'c replied for her. "Men who 
come only out of greed can only do evil." "They hold nothing sacred."

Daniel nodded, knowing what can happen to a woman alone and unprotected. 
"I understand."

                         *******************

After packing up the campsite and thoroughly dousing the fire they were 
finally ready to move O'Neill to the wagon. Daniel had wrapped his friend 
in a blanket to protect him from the cool of the late afternoon and 
shield his semi-clothed state from the view of strangers. The huge Teal'c 
gently picked up the sick man and carefully placed him into the wagon's 
bed now padded with the canvas and blankets from his bedroll. Daniel tied 
his two ponies to the back of the wagon and got up in the bed with him 
where he could support Jack's head and shoulders against the rough ride. 
Sam and Teal'c climbed up to the seat of the buckboard and started the 
mismatched team back down the rutted bumpy dirt road.

Since Teal'c was handling the reins, Sam turned back around to look down 
upon the passengers. "Daniel," she spoke his name, and he looked up at 
her curious face. "Where are you from? You don't speak like a northerner; 
in fact, your accent is unlike any I've heard recently."

He looked down onto his friend's face. "I am from Oklahoma, of the 
Cherokee Nation." 

"And he is?" She prompted, following his gaze to the other man.

"He is Jack O'Neill. When I met him, he was a Texas Ranger. He came back 
east to fight in your white man's war."

"Did you come too?"

"No, I stayed with my people. I tried to get him to stay with us, but he 
said he could help and that he must go back. He said he would return, but 
the others came back and he did not come"

"So you came looking for him..." She asked softly, "How did you know 
where to come?"

Two of his company came through our lands on the way back. They said he 
had been taken at the Battle of Cedar Creek. I went there and I tracked 
him. I found him at that place. He was dying. I took him so that he would 
not die, or if he did, it would be with the sun on his face."

She nodded. 

Then Teal'c spoke in his deep voice. "It is a good thing, to die free." 

Daniel looked back down at his friend and stroked the dirty gray hair. He 
nodded and replied. "Ta-wo-di dv-ga a-se-quu-i."

Sam looked at the young man curiously. "What does that mean?"

"The hawk must fly free."

                         *******************

They arrived at the Carter place. Daniel was a little surprised at the 
size of the grounds and the house. It was a mansion to him, the largest 
house he had ever seen with its two stories and double doorway. 

Teal'c halted the team at the front door, and climbed down, moving to the 
back of the wagon where he where he effortlessly lifted the still 
sleeping O'Neill from the blankets. Sam had climbed down from the wagon 
by herself, then led the others into the house and up a flight of stairs. 
"We can put him in father's room." She opened the door into a large airy 
room with a huge four-poster bed in the middle of the floor. Sam turned 
down the comforter and stepped back while the big man lay his burden down 
onto the mattress. She turned back to Daniel. "It's large enough that we 
can put a mattress on the floor for you to stay with him at night, if you 
would like."

"As large as that bed is, I don't see the need. I will share it with 
him."

"Are you sure?" Carter looked at him curiously. "Don't take this wrong 
but he is dirty, and he may have a disease."

Daniel only shrugged. "So am I, and the only sickness he has is of bad 
treatment and weakness."

"How can you be so sure?"

"If he had one, he would be dead already."

"Well, tomorrow, we'll get the hipbath down and we can heat water for it. 
You and Teal'c can give him a bath. He'll be the better for it."

"Good, I can get his infected leg clean." Daniel fussed with the pillows.

"How bad is the leg?" She asked.

"It is where he was shot. He has carried the wound since the battle I 
think, and it will not heal. I have started to treat it, but he will need 
much time to go strong again." 

"How are you treating it?" Samantha asked, "What are you using?"

"I clean the dead flesh from it and put a poultice of honey on it." He 
replied. "I must do it again tonight."

"Honey?" 

Teal'c nodded from where he was watching and listening. "I remember. The 
old healing woman in my village used it on poisoned wounds. They never 
became rotten."

Daniel nodded. "My Indian mother used it on me when I was gored by a 
javalina. It keeps the bad spirits away."

Samantha only shook her head in amazement as she listened to the two men 
discussing their own medicines yet agreeing on a treatment for the 
wounded and sick man. "I can see I can learn a lot from you two."

                         *******************

Chap 4

The next morning, Daniel awoke from a deep sleep in a soft, feather bed. 
It took him a moment to realize he was lying next to Jack in the large, 
airy bedroom at the Carter farm. While Sam insisted that the house was in 
no way large enough to be considered a mansion, it was still a very 
impressive home to him. It even seemed larger because there was no one 
else in residence except Samantha and her friend Teal'c, the former 
slave. 

He had just climbed out of the huge four poster bed and pulled on his 
trousers when there was a tap at the door. At his answer, Sam came into 
the room. He slipped his worn leather shirt on over his head and padded 
around the bed to open the door for her. She was carrying a tray with 
breakfast on it for him, eggs, grits, and some bread. He accepted the 
meal gratefully, taking the tray and setting it on the small table by the 
large brick fireplace. He picked up a piece of the bread and followed her 
to the bedside where Jack lay still asleep.

"How is he this morning?" She asked softly, laying a hand on Jack's 
forehead to judge if he still had a fever. "He feels warm."

Daniel nodded. "The fever is still there. It will be until the infection 
is gone."

She nodded. "Yes, it's the body's way of fighting the poison." Sam 
glanced up at the young man standing beside her, watching her movements. 
"Do you think he is well enough to be bathed? Teal'c can bring the tub up 
and we can heat the water in the hearth." She indicated the fireplace. 

"If he were only a few days dirty I would say no." Daniel looked at her. 
"But several months dirty is too much. He will feel better for the wash, 
I think."

She nodded, I'll get Teal'c. He can carry it up."

"I will help him; it must be heavy for one man." He glanced at the door. 
"Where would I find him?"

"In the back of the house, I will show you. But first we must light the 
fire. I'll bring the water up as you carry the tub. It will be warm 
enough by the time everything is ready. Then you and Teal'c can bath 
him." She smiled at the young man, "perhaps there will be enough water 
for you to take a bath also."

Daniel shook his head. "I can bathe in the creek. Don't worry about me."

Sam looked at him with confusion. "But everything will be in place; it 
would be silly not to take advantage of it. Then, this evening, after you 
men finish with it; we can move it into the bedroom that's not being 
used. That way, he can use it again as the knee heals. Its a little bit 
more trouble to bring the water up the stairs, but it will be awhile 
before he can walk down them."

The young man saw the logic, and he also realized that she was the first 
other person who believed that Jack would be alive and walking soon. 
"Thank you, for him, for having faith in him." Daniel said softly, "for 
believing in him."

"I don't think he'd dare disappoint you, Daniel Jackson." She smiled at 
him. "I wouldn't." 

                         *******************

After the two men wrestled the large iron tub up the staircase, Daniel 
was almost sure it would have been easier to carry Jack down to it. But 
Sam was right, it would be easier in the long run, and when Jack did 
become mobile, it would afford the man his privacy a lot quicker for the 
bath to be upstairs. Luckily Teal'c had helped care for sick and injured 
men before and had some knowledge in handling them. Jack remained in a 
semi-conscious state much of the time. He would respond to Daniel's 
voice, but the younger man was unsure how much his friend actually 
understood of what was going on around him. Daniel believed it was as 
much a mental condition as a physical one that Jack had done to himself 
to allow him to survive the horrors of the camp and then the hospital.

Sam had been busy bringing a large caldron up to the fireplace in the 
master bedroom, laying a fire then toting several buckets of clean well 
water up to be heated. She had also found a straight razor, and some good 
soap she said that was for hair and beard. And of course the stronger 
stuff for filthy skin. After she was satisfied they had all they needed; 
she stripped the soiled sheets from the bed and excused herself so they 
could bathe the injured man in privacy.

Teal'c had easily lifted Jack from the bed and after Sam left the room, 
they removed what clothes Daniel had dressed him in while caring for him 
in the camp. When he was placed in the hip tub, they kept the injured 
knee elevated so that the soiled bath water didn't make contact with the 
injury. It was still horrible to see, and had produced much drainage with 
more of the poisoned dead flesh sloughing off in the process of healing. 

"It needs maggots, young Daniel," Teal'c commented grimly, "they would 
take the meat off quicker." 

Daniel examined the injury. "I'm not sure friend Teal'c. I have seen that 
done, but they also take the good flesh. I do not want to cripple him."

The big man nodded. "True, we can wait. The honey is working well so far. 
Once we get it properly cleaned and treated, we can watch it closely." As 
they worked with soft rags of Turkish toweling across O'Neill's naked 
body, they discovered other smaller canker sores caused by lying in bed 
unattended and filthy. "I will gather some Aloe Vera plants for these 
smaller places." Teal'c spoke at Daniel's distraught expression. "It will 
sooth them as well, and we do not risk the bee's stings to get it." He 
smiled at the younger man. "I will get enough for your hands and face 
also."

Daniel managed a smile at Teal'cs offer, "Good." He glanced down at his 
bare arms, his having removed the leather shirt to keep it dry. The red 
welts of the bee stings were more obvious with their immersion in the hot 
water.

There was a tapping on the door, and Sam entered carrying items of 
clothing. "Sorry, to come in," she stated. "But here is one of my 
father's nightshirts for your friend, a Turkish sheet to dry him with, 
and the honeycomb for his leg." She put the items down on the bureau. 
"How does the wound look?" 

"It is very bad and will be slow to heal, but it has had a long time to 
worsen." Teal'c replied, "We can only hope that it will not cripple him." 
The large man looked up at the young woman, his ex-master's daughter and 
now his friend. "Samantha, could you get some of the aloe salve also, for 
his lesser sores?"

"Certainly," she replied wanting to be useful. "I'll bring enough for 
Daniel also."

After the bath was complete, they tended O'Neill's leg with the honeycomb 
poultice again and his bedsores with the soothing salve. Teal'c carefully 
shaved Jack's beard and cut his hair with the sharp razor. Then, dressing 
him in the clean, cotton nightshirt and bedding him down on clean sheets 
their task was complete. It had taken most of the afternoon, and Daniel 
looked exhausted from the stress of caring for his friend. 

Sam had been in and out during all the procedures, careful to turn her 
eyes from the nude patient's form. But she had been very impressed by the 
tender care that this rather strange young man was treating his injured 
comrade with. It was obvious that Daniel cared a great deal for the 
wounded soldier.

When O'Neill was safely tucked back into bed, Samantha reappeared again 
with a tray of fried meat, boiled greens, and potatoes for the two men. 
She sat it down on a low table in front of the fireplace. "I'm afraid 
that this is the last of the coon meat," she said as she sat it down.

Daniel nodded as he accepted the plate. "I will hunt again tomorrow. I 
can also look for another bee tree and perhaps find some slippery elm and 
red oak bark. They will also be useful later on."

"But for now, Daniel, you must rest." Teal'c said to him softly. "You 
have spent much of yourself for your friend. You must rest and grow 
strong, for he will need much more from you before he is well enough to 
return it to you."

Daniel could only nod, his exhaustion obvious. After the three of them 
had finished their meal, Sam and Teal'c left him alone with Jack. Daniel 
undressed and using the remaining warm water from the large caldron 
bathed himself. Then, dressed in another of the missing Mr. Carter's 
nightshirts, he gratefully crawled into the huge bed next to his friend 
and fell into a dreamless sleep.

                         *******************

Major General George Hammond of the Union Army and his young aide Captain 
Paul Davis had ridden out with a small cadre of his Cavalrymen in search 
of a rumor. Hammond had been just about to muster out of the Union Army 
and return to his home in Texas when he had heard a story involving an 
old friend. He'd been told that Colonel Jack O'Neill, an ex-Captain in 
his old company of Texas Rangers, had been wounded and captured at the 
Battle of Cedar Creek. From the battlefield he'd been taken to the 
Prisoner of War Camp, Camp Sumter in Andersonville Georgia.

The place had been recently opened and was reported to be a "damned 
hellhole" in all the official reports from the newly exchanged prisoners. 
Hammond had been very concerned about the strong willed, brave young 
officer, but now he was down right worried. Upon his arrival at 
Andersonville Georgia, he had heard that O'Neill had still been alive but 
seriously wounded and very ill. So ill, in fact, that he hadn't been sent 
to Florida with the other wounded but been taken to a small hospital a 
few miles away from Camp Sumter. 

When they got to the hospital, to verify O'Neill's identification and 
satisfy himself that everything was being done to aid his old friend, he 
had found the officer gone. The Steward at the Hospital reported that a 
longhaired, wild looking, young man had shown up without identification, 
authorization, or any official documentation. Then, at gunpoint, he had 
walked in and forcibly removed the injured man to a place unknown. 
Ordinarily, this would have been bad enough to infuriate the experienced 
field officer. However, when he and his military detail had arrived at 
the so-called hospital not far from Camp Sumter, Hammond had been 
appalled at the conditions of the sick and injured soldiers. After taking 
a quick tour of the facility, he had immediately ordered a runner to 
return to Union Army Headquarters in town to dispatch an Army Medical 
Doctor to come out and take charge of the hospital. The rescued prisoners 
were in such a condition of neglect, he found himself silently thanking 
whoever O'Neill's kidnapper was for taking the injured officer away from 
this horror. The Steward obviously didn't have the training, the 
inclination or the good sense that God gave a goat to help these men. He 
seemed to view himself as someone just there to wait until the remaining 
men all died.

Once he was satisfied that the proper steps were being taken to protect 
the remaining wounded men, Hammond had started to search in earnest. He 
was terribly concerned that his friend and old subordinate was suffering 
from the results of that neglect. Following a cold trail of several days 
they had finally located someone who told them a rather elaborate story 
of two men, one of them badly injured, taking shelter at a local farm. So 
now, he had gone to look for himself.

                         *******************

Samantha Carter was washing clothes on the porch of her anti-bellum 
plantation house when she heard a group of horsemen coming up the shady 
lane that led to her front yard. Teal'c and Daniel obviously heard them 
also because both men appeared as if by magic with weapons in hand; 
Jackson a Winchester Repeating rifle at the ready, and Teal'c, an old 
flintlock. Daniel handed Sam a revolver, which she stuck in her apron 
pocket.

The trio watched as two Union Calvary officers and a squad of ten men 
approached the house. Samantha Carter recognized the star insignia of a 
General officer. She started forward, but Daniel stepped in front of her 
and went out to meet the party of men. Teal'c stood beside her in the 
yard, antique rifle at hand.

The General and Captain halted the squad and trotted their mounts up to 
where the young man stood. Daniel called out to them as they approached. 

"Can I help you?"

The two men reined up a few feet from him. "Good afternoon, young man." 
The senior officer spoke in a pleasant voice with a Texas twang. "My name 
is General Hammond, and this is my aide Captain Davis. I'm looking for an 
old friend of mine that I've heard might be here. He was wounded and 
sick, in a hospital, and according to the man in charge of it, some wild-
eyed, longhaired, pistol-waving youngster came in and kidnapped my 
Colonel O'Neill." Hammond looked thoughtfully at Daniel as he repeated 
the description. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that now 
would you, boy?"

Daniel was surprised at the description and story he heard, but he 
answered truthfully. "Yes, sir. As a matter of fact I do."

Samantha pushed past Teal'c, and approached the men angrily. "General, 
that's a lie! That's not what happened at all. Your officer was near 
death when Daniel here found him. He would have been dead and soon too, 
if O'Neill had been left there any longer."

Hammond swung off his big gray horse and looked closely at the youngster 
in front of him. "Did you say your name was Daniel, son?"

"No, she did," he corrected the General Officer. "But I am Daniel 
Jackson."

"From the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma?" The man continued, with an odd 
expression on his face.

Now Daniel was becoming confused. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?" He 
looked suspiciously at the older man. He was certain they'd never met 
before.

"Well, son, I'm George Hammond, from San Antonio Texas. I was the 
commander of the detachment of Texas Rangers there. If you're the one who 
stole Jack O'Neill from that damned stink hole of a hospital, you have my 
gratitude and my thanks. I've heard a lot about you, young Daniel, and 
all of it good."

Daniel remembered the name. "Jack often spoke of his Commander from the 
Rangers. He has said good words of you, also." Daniel looked curiously at 
the older man. "But how did you find us?"

"Well, I've been looking for Jack O'Neill ever since I heard he was 
captured. I thought he was sent to a hospital right off, but then I heard 
he was at Andersonville. We were trying to arrange for a prisoner 
exchange before the war ended but it never happened." The General shook 
his head. "How is he? Can I see him?"

The young man frowned. "He's still very ill. He hasn't truly regained 
consciousness yet, though he knows me." But seeing the concerned 
expression on Hammond's face, he relented. "I will take you to him, but 
you must be quiet," Daniel glanced at the Captain and then at the squad 
of soldiers, "and you must come alone."

The General nodded his agreement, but Captain Davis started to object. 
"Sir. Is that wise? You don't know who these people are."

Hammond looked up at the junior officer impatiently. "Oh, yes, I do, 
Davis. This is a good friend of Jack O'Neill's. Jack's spoken to me of 
his friend Daniel Jackson many times over the years. And young Jackson 
here 's right, if Jack is badly injured and ill, he doesn't need a whole 
herd of Cavalrymen stomping up to and around his room." He looked back at 
Daniel. "Is there anyone else in the house?"

Daniel shook his head. "Just us, General." He indicated his two friends. 
"This is Samantha Carter, this is her place. This is Teal'c, he is her 
protector. They were kind enough to allow me to bring Jack here so that 
he would have a safe place to lie up and heal."

Hammond nodded to the unlikely pair. "Then you have my gratitude also. I 
was very concerned to think of my friend being neglected or mistreated in 
his time of need." He glanced at Jackson then at Samantha Carter. "May 
I?" He indicated the doorway into the house.

Sam looked at Daniel. "Yes." She replied with ladylike poise to the 
senior officer, "If Daniel says you're all right."

The young man nodded at her confidence in him and led the way into the 
residence. Hammond was quiet as he followed Daniel up the staircase. The 
Texan General could see the house had obviously belonged to a family of 
some means before the war, but now it was showing the effects of little 
money and no help. A lot of the house's furniture was no longer in 
evidence and parts of the interior were badly in need of repair. 

As they approached what appeared to be the master bedroom Daniel put his 
finger to his lips to indicate silence. Hammond nodded in understanding. 
The young man opened the door and led the way in. The General could see a 
huge four poster bed with a shrunken, wasted figure enveloped in the bed 
linens. At first sight, Hammond wanted to say that Daniel was mistaken 
that this could not possibly be his friend. Jack O'Neill was a tall, 
well-built man and had towered over many of the other Rangers in his 
company, but as he drew closer he could indeed recognize what the war had 
left of his old compadre.

Daniel had crossed to the big bed and lain a gentle hand on his friend's 
forehead, checking for fever. Then, a thin shaking hand reached up from 
the bed and Daniel took hold of it. He perched himself on the side of the 
bed, looked back to the Calvary Officer and indicated Hammond to come 
forward. 

As he got close to the wounded man, Hammond was shocked to see the 
condition of his old friend. The strong, graceful man was but a shell of 
himself. The power that had been Jack O'Neill had been drained away 
leaving a mere shadow. The strong face had become that of an old man, 
skin stretched like parchment across the high cheekbones and broad brow. 
The General cleared his throat to strengthen his voice before he spoke.

"Jack, Jack how are you doing?" The dark eyes in the wasted face searched 
his own as if trying to recall the name of this new visitor from a long 
time ago. 

O'Neill looked to Daniel for assistance. The young man leaned over and 
spoke softly. "It's Hammond, Jack. Do you remember him? He says he's a 
friend of yours."

"Jack, its George Hammond, from San An' tone. It's good to see you, 
Jack."

"George?" The voice was weak, but understandable.

"That's right, son. George." He assured the other man. "How you feeling?"

After a short hesitation, Jack nodded slightly in recognition. "George, 
good to see you. Sorry, I can't get up..." the sick man stirred in the 
bed.

"That's okay, Jack, you stay right there." The General stepped forward 
and patted O'Neill's arm awkwardly, his eyes appeared suspiciously damp. 
"You see, I finally met your Daniel Jackson. He's a good man, Jack."

Jack nodded slightly and spoke softly, "He'll do." Daniel smiled down at 
him, accepting the praise.

"Now you listen here, Jack. I'm gonna let you rest a bit, but I'll come 
back to visit with you in a few days. You get yourself well now, ya 
hear?"

Jack nodded and closed his eyes, still holding on to Daniel's hand. 
"Jack, I'm going to go talk to the General for a few minutes. I'll be 
back."

O'Neill nodded weakly and released Daniel's hand. Jackson got up from the 
bed and escorted Hammond back down to the first floor.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, the General turned to face 
the young man with profound sadness. "Son, look-a-here, I will be back in 
a few days. God knows that you've saved his life, but I'd like to bring a 
Doctor out to look at him."

Daniel nodded. "I only can do what I know and that's Indian medicine. 
Maybe your white medicine can help him more."

"I can't say if it will or not, but...I have to try to help." Hammond 
reached into his coat pocket and brought out a leather coin bag. He shook 
out several silver and gold pieces and gave them to Daniel. "Use this to 
buy whatever you can find that will help him. Some fresh vegetables, or a 
chicken...whatever." When the youngster started to protest, Hammond 
shushed him. "I know you won't take my money...it's for him. Son, you've 
saved the life of one of the best men I know. Simple money can't repay 
you...but it can help him...so use it."

Daniel silenced his protest. The General was right of course, and good 
food was very important to Jack's recovery. "I thank you for him." He 
replied as he took the coins and put them in his own trousers' pocket.

General Hammond smiled at Jackson. "And now that I've seen him and know 
where he is, I can get his discharge papers done up properly so nobody 
can stop you and him from leaving when he's ready." At Jackson's confused 
look, Hammond continued. "Right now, he's still technically in the Army, 
but when I get his discharge papers all signed and ready, then he'll be 
free to go wherever he wants to...and you can't get into any trouble for 
taking him out of that death house."

Daniel looked at him in disbelief. "Wise Eagle is right," he replied in 
an amazed voice. "The White men do think they own everything...even each 
other."

Hammond looked back at the doorway that led to his friend. "Only some do, 
and then there are a few that can't be owned." He indicated the upstairs 
room. "And that's one of them."

                         *******************

Chap 5

Jack O'Neill awoke one morning without having the vaguest idea where he 
was. Well, he did know that he was lying in a huge four-poster bed in a 
large, light, airy bedroom. It felt like a piece of heaven come to earth 
to him. It must be summer; the atmosphere in the room was warm and sunny. 
All the tall windows were thrown open and a soft breeze wafted through 
them and stroked the gauzy curtains into a gentle ballet. There was 
birdsong on the wind and the soft sound of leaves waltzing to the strains 
of the Mockingbirds courtship song.

He lay there for a good long while, just appreciating the feeling of 
being warm, clean and comfortable. He looked down at the floral print 
quilted coverlet that lay across his chest and then, he saw his hand. He 
knew it was his hand, but it seemed curiously altered in appearance. The 
pale parchment like skin seemed stretched too thinly across the stark 
bones and sinews. The hand exhibited all the proper markings, long thin 
fingers, the scar from the boyhood fight with his younger brother, the 
slightly crooked little finger where it had been broken. It was his hand, 
just mysteriously altered by something, somehow, somewhen. He pushed down 
on the coverlet with his hand to see the other hand, lying peacefully on 
top of his chest resting on a striped cotton nightshirt. It too was 
changed, too thin, too pale, too weak. 

Jack managed to move his second hand in tandem with the first and he 
brought them both up to his face. He found it's planes altered also, his 
nose a bit too hawk like for memory, cheekbones too prominent for 
familiarity. Soft clean skin with only a short bristle of beard testified 
that someone unknown was caring for him, but another revelation occurred 
in these actions. His arms were as thin as reeds; white in color and so 
frail as to resemble those of a very ill or very old man.

What had happened to him? Why had it happened? Had Rip van Winkle felt 
like this when he woke from his magic sleep? What horrible nightmare had 
he lived and where, oh where was he now?

O'Neill finally decided that he really needed to find out these things 
and why. There was no one else there to ask so he tried to concentrate 
and remember what the last thing he could recall clearly was. The 
overwhelming memory that he summoned from his confused mind was the 
sensation of being very cold and in pain. 

Then the haze of confusion began to fade and the visions started to 
return. His most vivid memory was of a battle. First, recalling the 
sights and sounds of his comrades in the long battle lines of blue coats 
and horses. This sight co-mingled with the familiar smells of leather, 
sweat and fear of both men and their mounts in their anticipation of the 
upcoming violence. Then in the distance could be heard the sounds of 
cannon and rifle fire. Next, the calls of the Commanders were heard and 
echoed by the Sergeants down through the ranks of the infantrymen and 
cavalry. He could still envision the ground passing quickly beneath his 
horse's galloping hooves as they surged forward into the charge. He could 
see the gray lines of the enemy marching towards them. He could smell the 
acrid perfume of gunpowder, scent the tangy odor of sweat and fear. He 
vividly recalled the muted slap of lead hitting flesh, the sharp 
explosion of pain in his leg and an odd sensation of flying as his horse 
stumbled forward and fell thunderously to the ground with a groan. More 
smells, the sickly sweet scent of fresh blood, the odor of the raw, torn 
earth as he lay face down under the bulk of his horse's body. More 
numbing pain as the animal struggled to regain his feet and failed, to 
lie heavily on him, stealing what breath he had left and trapping him 
beneath. An odd sense of grief for the faithful animal that had served 
him so well for so long as they lay together, dying on the field of 
battle.

After that, a long period of nothingness. The rough sensation of hands 
dragging at him roused him with pain, brutally freeing him from beneath 
his dying horse. Then he was carried and slung over another poor 
frightened animal's back and led from the field, again fading into 
darkness. 

Everything from there on became blended into a long nightmare of hurt, 
confusion and movement; interspersed with long periods of nothingness. In 
time, his torturous journey ended days later when he was unceremoniously 
deposited into a prisoner of war encampment. What followed in the days, 
weeks and months after that was nothing more than one long endless 
nightmare of pain, hunger, thirst, cold and misery. All he could recall 
was formless visions of indistinct memories and indistinguishable days of 
a freezing, wet, cold, existence followed by periods of thirst, hunger 
and pain with a few sporadic episodes of kindness from his fellow 
victims. Finally, his mind, body and spirit battered and beaten into 
apathy and indifference to his own fate, uncaring whether he lived or 
died, sank into a sea of semiconscious mist. 

Then, the face from a dream of long ago came to him. It was so foreign to 
his recent experiences that it didn't seem real. The familiar voice came 
with gentle hands and healing touches. It spoke to the soul and spirit of 
the man in a singsong language that used words like gi-ne-li (friend), 
da-ni-ta-ga (blood brother) and u-du (brother). Words that spoke of nv-
wa-do-hi-ya-dv (peace) and ge-tsa-di (home). That voice touched him in 
the depths where he had fled into nothingness and it brought him back to 
this warm, soft, clean place...a place of hope. Daniel, it was Daniel, 
who had brought him back to the land of light and life. 

He wanted to find his friend, wanted to go to him, but he was so weak, so 
tired. He didn't think he could get out of the bed, even if he knew where 
to go.

                         *******************

Daniel entered Jack's room. He'd been chopping wood in the back yard that 
morning. Teal'c had started harvesting what crops and fresh vegetables 
they managed to get from the garden plot; some tomatoes, carrots, and 
some snap beans. Sam would fix a stew tonight with the four squirrels he 
had shot last evening and make some cornbread. It would be a good 
tasting, filling meal and he was hungry. Then some of the left over stew 
would be boiled until it was soft enough for him to force feed to Jack. 
Jack needed to eat, he was much too thin and it was interfering with his 
body's ability to heal. 

General Hammond had promised to bring a doctor out. He hoped it would be 
soon. The Indian medicine that he knew was not enough. He'd kept Jack 
alive, but it was only a half-life. The spirit of his friend was still 
far away. Many days Daniel had wished for his grandfather, Wise Eagle or 
the tribe's healer, Gray Bear for their knowledge. Now, he just hoped the 
white man's doctor could do more for his friend than he had been able to. 

As he entered the bedroom Daniel crossed to the large bed to check on his 
patient. The older man looked better at least, clean and comfortable in 
the bed. The pain that had been reflected on his face had passed and now 
there was peace at least. Daniel sat down on the edge of the mattress and 
stroked his friend's brow to test for fever. There was none. The fever 
had broken. Then, the brown eyes opened to look at him in calm 
acceptance.

"Jack?" He breathed the name in amazement. "Jack!"

The other man weakly stirred and tried to lift a hand to return his 
touch. "Daniel." 

Daniel reached to grasp the trembling hand. "Jack, do you know me?" He 
said, trying to stay calm for his friend while his heart did cartwheels 
in his chest.

"For years, Daniel. I've known you for years." 

Daniel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He could only hold on to 
Jack's hand, stroke his face and smile broadly and foolishly down at his 
friend. Finally...finally, Jack had made the long journey back to him 
from his place in the shadows. The officer lay quietly back on the 
pillows just gazing up at him as if he was the best sight in years. 
"Jack, oh Jack, you've come back, Da-ni-ta-ga. You've come back!"

"Daniel, where are we?" Jack finally asked as he turned his face to look 
at the open window. "I don't remember this place."

"It is the home of a friend who took us in when we needed help." The 
young man answered him. "You would not remember it. You were not 
conscious when we brought you here."

"I don't remember much, Danny." The older man admitted weakly. "In fact, 
I really don't remember anything...except your voice in my mind. What 
happened? How did I get like...like this?"

Daniel took a deep breath to steady himself. "It is a long story, Ta-wa-
di. You were gravely wounded in battle. But you are here now, I will 
bring you something to eat, then we can talk."

Jack nodded. It occurred to him that he was hungry. "I could eat."

"I'll go and get you something." Daniel lay Jack's hand back down on the 
bed as if it would break at the contact. "Be awake when I return."

"I'm not going anywhere, Danny. I'll be here." As Daniel got up from the 
bed and went to the door, Jack called softly to him. "Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack." Daniel turned and came back to his friend's side.

"This is all real, right? I'm not dreaming, am I?" Jack sounded worried.

"No, my friend." Daniel smiled at him, touched his face and looked down 
into the brown eyes willing Jack to know it and he were real. "Not a 
dream, the dreaming is over. Now, now you will live again."

Jack smiled at his friend and closed his eyes. 

                         *******************

Daniel practically ran down the staircase and into the kitchen. "Sam, 
Teal'c...he's awake! Sam!" He entered the kitchen; the young woman was 
standing by the old cast iron stove looking at him in surprise. She had 
been stirring something in a large pot and still held her wooden spoon. 
"Sam!" He was breathless with excitement.

"What is it, Daniel? Are you hurt? Is it Jack? What's wrong?"

But his big sunny smile quelled her immediate fears. "No, no, no, not 
that...Jack's awake...he's talking, and he knew me right off." He grasped 
the young woman in a hug and spun her around the kitchen floor. "And he's 
hungry! He wants to eat!"

Samantha had to laugh at her friend's excitement and happiness. "Daniel, 
that's wonderful." She stopped their spinning and went back to the stove. 
"He's hungry? Then food he shall have." Sam peered into the pot. "But not 
this, it's not done yet." She looked around the kitchen and saw some of 
the morning's biscuits. "Here, here's some bread." Then she picked up a 
cup and went sown into the basement's cool room. She returned with a mug 
of fresh milk from that morning's milking. "It hasn't separated yet," she 
commented to both herself and Daniel, "so all the cream is all still in 
the milk."

Daniel, still smiling, took the cup carefully from her hand. "Thanks to 
Betsy. I'll cut her some fresh wild oats tonight."

Sam had to giggle at him. "Daniel, she's a cow, for pity's sake. You 
don't thank cows for giving milk."

"Then how do they know that you appreciate their efforts?" He asked 
gaily, as he took two of the remaining biscuits and began to spread a 
little of the honey on them that he had gathered the day before.

"Daniel, are all Indians as silly as you?"

"Oh no, we are all different, like you white people, but I have to go now 
or Jack will fall asleep again." Daniel turned and headed back to the 
sickroom.

Sam followed him to the kitchen door. "Daniel, can I come up?" 

He paused a moment on the bottom stair. "Come up in ten minutes," He 
answered happily. "Let me tell him first."

Daniel hurried back to the bedroom bearing the food. He entered the room 
and Jack opened his eyes at his approach. Daniel drug a chair over to the 
bed with him and sat the food on it. He helped his friend to sit up and 
drink from the mug, then he fed him small pieces of the biscuit. Jack 
managed to eat a whole one and finish the milk. But he tired quickly and 
was ready to rest when there was a tap on the door.

"Oh, Sam wants to meet you...for just a minute." Daniel told him as he 
took the mug from his friend's tired hands and sat it down on the bed 
table. Jack nodded sleepily, exhausted by the effort of eating. Daniel 
adjusted the pillow and comforter for his friend. "Sam, come in." He 
called.

The young woman entered the sick room quietly and approached the bed. She 
immediately saw the difference in the man. He was alive now to her, even 
as weak as he was, Jack O'Neill was a powerful persona. The surprisingly 
dark brown eyes looked at her with calm acceptance and a depth of 
personality.

"Hello, Colonel O'Neill. It's good to finally make your acquaintance." 
She greeted him and touched his hand. He immediately took hers in a weak 
grip.

"I'm very pleased to be here and grateful to meet you, Miss Carter." Jack 
said weakly in a soft voice, recalling her name from Daniel's talking. 
"Thank you for your hospitality...and your trouble."

"You've been no trouble, Colonel." She smiled at him, then shifted her 
look to the young man who was hovering next to the bed. "And Daniel has 
been a great help, not only to you, but to us also." She patted Jack's 
hand with her free one. "I'm just glad you're feeling better. We've been 
very concerned over you."

O'Neill nodded, he was becoming tired quickly. Sam noticed his exhaustion 
and slipped her hand from his grasp. "You must rest now, Colonel. But 
when you awaken, if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call on 
me to help you."

Jack could only blink and try to smile as he fell asleep before their 
eyes. Sam looked up at Daniel and saw the caring in his eyes, as he gazed 
down at the older man. On an impulse, she stepped over and kissed Daniel 
on the cheek. "You did it, Daniel. You really did it."

Daniel smiled down at her. "We did it, you and Teal'c too. Thank you."

                         *******************

That night, Jack O'Neill ate his first meal in almost seven months. It 
was only a small portion: simple, filling and completely wonderful, even 
if Daniel insisted on cooking his portion of the stew until it was mush. 
Jack was still a little unsure if he hadn't finally died and gone on to 
that Heaven that his old Priest used to prattle on about. 

But reality came crashing in that evening when his benefactors prepared 
his bath for him. Teal'c, the third member of his round the clock nursing 
staff, came in and helped him into the tub. O'Neill was shocked at the 
severity of his incapacitation and the horrible injury on his leg. From 
the wonderful feeling of the hot water on his stiff, abused body to the 
gruesome sight of his infected wound to the exquisite pain he suffered 
during Daniel's gentle, careful handling and treatment of his damaged leg 
and knee, Jack began to realize just how bad things had gotten for him.

When his bath ordeal was over, by doing some fancy math in his head, Jack 
realized that he'd been wounded sometime in October and Daniel had 
assured him it was early May of the following year. He'd lost a whole 
seven months to his hell on earth. At first he couldn't believe the time 
period. Then, as Daniel and Teal'c cleaned and redressed his wounded leg, 
Jack O'Neill listened to their talk. He began to realize just how 
remarkable a thing his young friend had done for him. For Daniel to not 
only find him in the chaos of the end of the war, but to go literally 
steal him away from the hospital, then to support and treat his wounded 
body and mind was miraculous. It was the act of a hero of Herculean 
proportions. Amazing just didn't cover it.

Miss Carter was not acting at all like a southern lady. She would breeze 
in and out of his room, bringing in toweling and clean clothes for him, 
acting as if he were fully dressed and calmly sitting in her parlor; not 
naked as a jay-bird in a bathtub in her upstairs bedroom. She was so 
matter of fact about everything; he was able to not feel totally 
embarrassed. During the course of a background discussion, she told him 
that she was born southern but her father had sent her to Pennsylvania to 
a Finishing School when her mother had died. Then General Carter had 
called her back to run the farm while he was gone off to war. He had 
served under General Lee but had not yet returned home after the war was 
over. She had heard a rumor about his refusing to swear the oath of 
fealty to the Union but had no proof of it. 

Samantha had been one of those people who hadn't chosen sides in the war. 
She just hated the whole situation and was glad it was finally over for 
good. A Yankee Calvary Officer in her home did not bother her one whit. 
He was a man who needed help, and she could help him, and that was the 
end of that problem. 

Her friend Teal'c had been a slave at the Carter Farm when her father, 
Jacob was there. But Samantha Carter had been quite happy to free all her 
slaves as soon as it had been safe for them. A few had stayed on the 
property with her and helped out in the fields but most had left as soon 
as they had been able. The big black man had left the farm for a short 
time; but when he had heard that she had been harassed and molested by 
some evil white men, he had rushed back to offer her some protection 
until her father returned or some other answer was found for her safety.

Finally, all the chores for his care were finished that night. Jack lay 
back exhausted by the ordeal in the big bed, watching Daniel finish 
emptying the bathtub by throwing the dirty water out the window by 
bucket. Then the younger man washed with a wet towel and some clean water 
that he had held back. After pulling on another nightshirt, Daniel 
crawled into his side of the large bed.

Jack turned his head to look at the earnest young man who was studying 
him from the other pillow. "Thank you, Danny."

Daniel smiled that infectious sweet smile of his back at his friend. 
"Thank yourself, Jack. Remember, if you hadn't rescued me from that 
wounded buffalo when I was eighteen, I wouldn't have been here to find 
you."

Jack looked at him with warmth, "Maybe so, but it seems a whole lot 
easier to kill a few buffalo and pull an Indian kid up behind my saddle 
that day, than to do what you did." He shook his head. "I didn't even 
know who you were then, U-ne-ga Yv-wu (white Indian)."

"Which makes it even a braver thing." Daniel reached over and pushed the 
hair off of Jack's forehead. "Go to sleep Jack, you must rest now and 
grow strong."

Jack nodded at his friend, closed his eyes and slept.

                         *******************

The following day, Sam, Teal'c, and Daniel were doing the laundry out on 
the front porch. Teal'c was boiling and carrying the water and then 
plying the washing pole, swirling the sheets and other item around in the 
large galvanized tub. Sam was handling the wash board chores, and Daniel 
was busily hanging the items up to dry in the warm southern breezes. Then 
after a few hours, he would gather the dry items off the line and carry 
them safely inside. It was a chore that would take all day and was 
backbreaking work for all involved. 

Daniel also was playing butler to his patient, Jack O'Neill. Now, that it 
was early afternoon, and very pleasant, Jack was actually feeling well 
enough to want to sit up in a chair for a short while. He was on the 
veranda that ran all along the second floor, sitting in the sun, napping 
when he heard some commotion from downstairs. 

There were signs of a wagon or several horses coming up the long grassy 
lane towards the house from the main road. From the amount of dust, Jack 
guessed a wagon of some sort. He was just about to attempt to stand up 
from his chair when Daniel caught him in the act.

"Oh, no, you don't, Jack." The voice stopped him in mid push. "I knew 
you'd be trying something up here." Daniel slipped under Jack's arm and 
supported him on his shoulder. "Come on, you've been up long enough."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Daniel." Jack groused, good-naturedly. "I've 
been abed too long already. I get dizzy just thinking of standing up."

"Then you should listen to your body and obey its commands." Daniel sat 
him back down on the bed, and looked at him critically. 

                         *******************

The large buckboard came into sight as it approached the house. From his 
perch on the second floor, Daniel could see that it was General Hammond's 
group with Captain Davis driving. There was a small chestnut-haired woman 
sitting next to him on the flat seat. Hammond and another, younger 
officer were riding along side the wagon. The wagon appeared to be loaded 
with several boxes, barrels and casks stacked in the back.

As the cortge pulled up in front of the Carter house, Sam and Teal'c came 
out to meet them. Daniel waved at the party from the second floor. 
Hammond saw him and waved back. Sam invited the four people into the 
house and Daniel soon heard the sound of booted footsteps on the wooden 
second floor. Someone tapped at the door for entrance.

Daniel opened the door and General Hammond and the small woman entered. 
When Hammond saw that Jack was awake, he strode quickly across the floor 
and bent down to the bedside and took his old friend's hand.

"Jack, you old son of a gun...I can't tell you how happy I am to see you 
awake." The General was smiling down at his old friend. "I was really 
afraid that this time, you'd gone and done it up for good."

The woman looked up at the tall young man. "Hello, I'm Doctor Janet 
Fraiser."

Daniel nodded, "Daniel Jackson. It's good of you to come this long 
journey."

"And miss meeting you two?" She laughed, easily and softly. "I just 
couldn't pass up the chance." Doctor Fraiser replied as she glanced over 
at where O'Neill was lying on the bed. Jackson nodded and she followed 
the General over to the injured man's bedside.

"Jack, this is a friend of mine, Doctor Fraiser. I brought her out to 
check on that leg of yours." Hammond smiled down at Jack. 

"Now, Comman..., er General, I've got a damn good Doctor. I've still got 
the leg." He looked meaningfully at the two newcomers."

"No, Jack; let her look at it." Daniel protested, then looked at the Lady 
Doctor. "Ma'm, it was in pretty bad shape, but I've cleaned it and 
poulticed it from what I knew our ga-na-ga-ti, uh, our healer would do. 
The injury looks better to me, but you would know."

Fraiser nodded, then turned to the other two men. "If I may, Colonel?"

O'Neill frowned, but Hammond nodded to him tacitly acting permission. 
Finally, Jack relented. The General moved back to talk to Daniel. "You 
understand son, it's not that I don't trust you..."

"Of course, we both want what's best for Jack." 

The Doctor had pulled the coverlet off of Jack and was unwrapping his 
injury. When the linen had come off, she looked at the wound a long time. 
Then she glanced up at Daniel. "How long have you been treating this?"

"I found him six days ago, but by the time I got him away from that place 
and to a good camp, it was too dark. The next day, late morning, I 
started."

"This is amazing..." Fraiser looked at him then down at O'Neill. "When 
did you receive this wound?"

"From my figuring, around the nineteenth of October. We engaged Early's 
troops at Cedar Creek. That's when I was wounded. I must have been 
unconscious for several days. When I woke up I was being hauled to the 
Camp." He looked to Hammond for information. 

The General was thinking already. "That would have been about right." 
Hammond looked down Jack and shook his head. "You mean to tell me that 
you've been carrying that wound for six months or more?"

Jack looked at Daniel who shrugged. "I uh, well, evidently so. Someone 
helped me in the camp, one of the other prisoners I think. I remember him 
using leaches and maggots on my leg." 

Hammond just stared at him, but Daniel and Fraiser nodded. "The healers 
use them occasionally, to keep the proud flesh down." The younger man 
commented.

"I've heard of that," Fraiser agreed. "but what is this that you have on 
here now?"

"That's a poultice of beaten honeycomb and honey." He leaned over her 
shoulder, "and maybe a few dead bees." Daniel raised his eyes to Jack's 
who smiled at him. "It draws the poison out and sloughs the dead meat 
away. For his other hurts, I've used Aloe Vera and the tea from Red Oak 
bark. For his pain, I have given him tea from skin of the Slippery Elm 
tree."

"I've known about the Aloe Vera." Janet delicately began to examine the 
wound more closely.

"Oh, and of course, I clean the wound twice a day and treat it." Daniel 
put in. 

"With what?"

"I use sacred fire to boil the water and the bandages to purify them," He 
replied, "so that no evil enters the wound again. This I was taught by 
Gray Bear, our ga-na-ga-ti."

Fraiser nodded. "If he'd been taken to a Military Hospital, they would 
have amputated that leg, to keep the evil out. But, now, it's do very 
well, it's beginning to heal. I don't know how much use you'll have of 
the leg, Colonel O'Neill, but you will have it."

Jack looked from her to Daniel. Jackson could see his friend's fear in 
his eyes, if no one else could. He squatted by the bed next to O'Neill 
and took his friend's hand in his. "He will have all the use of the leg. 
I say it. Gray Bear would say it. It is only a wound. He feels the pain 
in it. It is alive. It will heal."

Fraiser looked from the Colonel to the General to the young man. "I 
certainly hope so, Daniel. She replied. "For his sake."

                         *******************

Chap 6

Finally, the General and his woman Doctor left the two friends alone in 
the bedroom. Daniel was standing by the bed staring at the door. He was 
angry with her, not because she doubted his medicine. He was no healer, 
and he knew it. He was angry because she doubted O'Neill. She didn't know 
him, she hadn't seen him before when he was tall and strong, able to lift 
a youngster to safety, to run with the men while hunting, to train a 
horse by his skill. She did not know of his fluid grace, his vigorous 
personality, or his indomitable will to succeed. How dare she come in 
here and tell Jack that he would fail, that he wouldn't walk or run 
again? Jack would not fail because he did not know how to fail, just like 
he had survived the camp because he did not know how to give up.

A hand touched his, and Daniel turned and sat on the bed next to his 
friend. Jack looked at him questioningly. "What's wrong, Daniel? Why so 
quiet?"

Daniel smiled at Jack, "I don't know," he shook his head, "I don't think 
I like her as much as I thought I would." He shrugged. "Maybe I was 
expecting a man doctor."

The older man shook his head. "I don't believe that. You've been treated 
by women healers at home." O'Neill looked at him with concern. "Come on, 
Daniel, what's going on in that head of yours?"

He knew that he couldn't lie to Jack, and worse, he knew that Jack knew 
it also. He turned to sit back down by his friend. He took Jack's hand in 
his then finally, he said it. "She's wrong Jack."

O'Neill looked confused at first, then realization occurred. "Oh, you 
mean about me...my leg." He shrugged. "Daniel, it's bad. I knew that. The 
only thing that saved me from having it cut off before was that they 
thought I was gonna die anyway. I'm lucky you found me when you did, or I 
would have been dead."

"No."

"Yes. Look, I know what I look like." The pain in Jack's voice cut at him 
like a sharp skinning knife. "I can see my body, and my arms and legs. I 
was more than half dead when you found me. Hell, I probably should have 
been dead. I wanted to die, not lay there anymore like a pile of sticks." 
Jack's hand found his arm and tugged on it, calling for Daniel's 
attention. "Daniel, you've already done the impossible. Miracles come 
from a little different place then skill."

"But this is exactly what I mean. In an hour, she's convinced you that 
you'll not be whole again." Daniel turned and looked directly at his 
friend, holding his eyes with his own. "Hear me, Captain Jack O'Neill. 
You will not die. You will not be crippled. You will get out of that bed 
and you will walk. You will return with me to the land of the a-ni-tsa-
la-gi (Cherokee Indians). You will grow strong there. You will break the 
good gray colt grandfather will give you and we will ride the o-ga-la-ho-
mi (Oklahoma) into nv-da-gi (Texas). I am Wa-ya. I have seen this truth. 
I know it!"

Jack looked up at his friend in surprise. "You know, Danny, when you talk 
like that...I want to believe you...but facts..."

"Are nothing but what your people believe today." The blue eyes willed 
him to believe his words. "My people do not have the same truths as 
yours." Daniel shifted his hand so that his fingers linked through 
O'Neill's. "Believe in my truth, Da-na-wa A-hi-ga-lu-s-sti (war hawk). 
Believe that U-ne-qua (Great Spirit) will hear us and with my little 
medicine and your strong spirit, our people will see you well again." The 
younger man looked down at their clasped hands. "If you do not believe 
this, it will not happen."

Jack nodded. "I'll try, Danny. For you, I'll try" 

"I will make you."

Jack chuckled softly. "I believe you will." 

                         *******************

Daniel had sat a while longer with Jack, talking to him about different 
things, horses and old hunts. Remembering the camp and the friends they 
shared, until the injured man had fallen into a peaceful healing sleep. 
Daniel left him and went back downstairs to dinner. The General and his 
party had brought out some supplies with them such as flour, sugar, salt 
and coffee. Teal'c, Captain Davis and Lieutenant Simmons had unloaded the 
provisions while he had been with Jack. As he came down the stairs, he 
could hear Samantha and the General talking.

"Miss Carter, I insist you take this food. I know how hard it is for 
y'all out here."

"General Hammond, while I appreciate your generosity...."

As he entered the room, Hammond turned to Daniel. "Good, there you are."

Daniel looked back and forth between the two. "What's wrong, Sam?"

She looked at him in frustration. "I was explaining to the General that I 
am unused to taking charity..."

"...From a Bluebelly officer." He looked at her and shook his head. "Miss 
Carter, please, I'm doing it to help my officer that you've taken in. And 
if you don't mind, I'd like to be able to come and visit him again, so 
please, let me help you to take care of him."

Sam glanced at Daniel. She knew the young man well enough to know he was 
upset about something. He met her eyes and then looked at the General. 
"Take the food, Sam. Jack needs it to grow strong and get well." He 
looked squarely at the Officer. "And he will get well."

Hammond looked at him in confusion. "Of course, he will." He stated 
matter of factly. "Jack's sick, yes, but it's just a matter of time and 
he'll be fine. Why?"

"General, you've been Jack's friend a long time, haven't you?"

"Yes, Daniel I have...and I count that friendship as one of great 
importance to me. Why?"

"Jack is not only physically sick, but his spirit is weak. He can't fight 
a battle on two sides. When I found him, he was dying. I gave him a tree 
to lean on. From that tree he got fruit to eat, sap to drink, bark to 
heal with. Now, he's afraid that the tree will not stand for him. The 
doctor is wrong, but because he is weak now, he believes her." Daniel 
shook his head. "I am afraid for him now because now he is afraid that he 
will fail."

"Now, wait just one minute, young man." Doctor Fraiser came into the 
room. "I don't know what trees and fruit have to do with Colonel 
O'Neill's injuries, but I do know that I won't lie to a patient." She 
said with finality. "That leg should have been taken off six months ago. 
By now it would be healed."

"NO! You are the one who does not understand." Daniel answered her with 
just as stubbornly as the doctor had given her answer. "You have done 
more damage with your tongue, than you could have with a knife." He 
looked angrily towards the doctor. "You have great skill in your hands, I 
see this. Why won't you use that knowledge to heal instead of hurt?"

"I do! I've helped many people with my skill as a doctor and a surgeon." 
Dr. Fraiser shot back at him.

"Then, do it again." Daniel said angrily. He glanced at the stairs. 
"Don't tell him what he can't do, tell him what he can do... then, let 
him do it." 

"I'm not God, young man." She retorted in frustration. "I cannot say who 
is to live and who is to die, who is to walk, or who is to be lame."

Daniel shook his head. "You are wrong. You do it every day. Every person 
you touch, you tell them. To one you say, I can heal you. Do as I say. 
But to others, you say, I cannot help you. You will be crippled. Just 
like you told Jack." The young man looked at her sternly. "You will not 
go there again. He will not hear it. I will not let him." He then turned 
and went back up the stairs.

Fraiser looked at the General and Samantha. "I don't understand what just 
happened. What does he mean?"

General Hammond cleared his throat and looked at Samantha. "Doctor, that 
young man was raised by the Cherokee Indians. They believe that a person 
and his spirit or soul are one and the same. He thinks for the body to 
heal the soul must believe that it can heal."

"General, I'm not going to lie to a patient to make him feel better. I 
had to tell your friend the truth."

"Doctor Fraiser," Samantha spoke to the other woman. "I'm no Doctor, or 
even a trained nurse, but I can tell you that several days ago, we 
brought a man here who I expected to die at any minute. I expected to 
have to explain to someone like General Hammond here why I had a Union 
Calvary Officer buried in my rose garden. But now, less than a week 
later, I had a conversation with that same officer. I don't know whether 
it's due to Daniel's refusing to give up on him, his Indian medicine, or 
the Colonel's fortitude. Maybe it's all of it together, but that man is 
alive up there. A month ago a whole slew of Army doctors went through 
Camp Sumter and decided those men were going to die and left them there 
to do just that. Somehow, Daniel not only got here from Oklahoma, he 
found his friend, got him out of the hospital, and now he's getting well. 
Now, I'm willing to bet that in two months, that man is going to get up 
out of that bed and walk out of this house. He won't do it because I want 
him to, or because the General here tells him to, or even to prove you 
wrong. He'll do it because Daniel says he can." She looked at Hammond 
with an angry smile. "And I'm going to help him. So yes, General Hammond, 
I will take that food and money that you want to give us, because Daniel 
says it will help the Colonel."

Hammond smiled back at her with a gentle one. "Good, because that's why 
I'm giving it to you. Just remember, to help Jack O'Neill, sometimes you 
have to help yourself."

                         *******************

Daniel entered the room he shared with his friend. Jack was still 
sleeping, gathering his strength. He pulled his boots off and climbed 
into the big bed next to Jack and lay there watching him sleep. In a 
short while, he too rested. He had a battle to fight; they would both 
need his strength.

Later that evening after dinner, Samantha came up to the room looking for 
the young man. It was nearly dark, and she was carrying a candle to see 
with. She also had a large bowl of stew and some flatbread for Daniel and 
Jack. Sam tapped lightly on their bedroom door. After a few seconds, it 
opened and Daniel appeared, all sleep tousled, and stepped back to let 
her in. He indicated that Jack was asleep as he took the food from her. 
She nodded and went over to start a fire in the hearth. The two of them 
settled in the chairs by the fireplace to talk in the glow of its flames.

'Thank you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about today. I should not have 
lost my temper."

Sam waved off, "No, you shouldn't have, but you are right. I didn't hear 
what she said, but I've heard doctors before. They don't understand what 
their pronouncements can do." She watched the fire burn in the hearth. 
"If it helps you, the General and I agree with you, but I don't think 
that the Doctor understood what she did was wrong." Sam looked pensive. 
"Daniel, a lot of people think that the body is separate from the mind 
and heart. I know that's not true, that they all word together to make a 
person who they are. I've seen people die because they decided to." 

She turned to look at the sleeping man. "But he's not one of them. He's 
come so far, mainly because of you, but a lot because of himself too." 
She took a chance and laid a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "He won't give up 
on you, Daniel. Don't you give up on him," He turned to look at her, "and 
I think the best thing I can do to help him is to start feeding him 
right. The Mason's next door have some peaches and maybe some melons or 
cantaloupes that they might sell for some good Yankee dollars." She 
smiled at him. "And you can take some of the General's money and go into 
town and buy some meat and whatever else you need for him."

Daniel nodded. He knew that Jack needed more meat than he could hunt for 
here in this war torn area. "Maybe I can by some ham or at least salt 
pork..." 

Sam nodded. "And sometimes there's a fishmonger in town." She got a 
playful look in her eyes. "Maybe I can take that Leutinent Simmons down 
to the creek and we can catch some crawfish. You buy us some rice, too. 
We can always make a gumbo soup." She laughed. "It's poor southern food, 
but it'll put some meat back his bones. 

                         *******************

The following morning, Daniel and Paul Davis took the army wagon and 
headed into Andersonville to pick up more food items with the money that 
General Hammond had given to Jackson. The trip would take most of the 
morning then the visitors would leave that afternoon to get back to the 
Union Army Camp.

Samantha took Graham Simmons down to the little creek that ran through 
her farm. The young man said he didn't know how to fish. He'd grown up in 
New York City and had no one to teach him. He was eager to learn and, and 
anyhow, having a beautiful woman teaching him would not be a hardship on 
him.

Hammond had gone upstairs to visit with Jack and try to encourage him in 
his recovery. It hadn't occurred to him yesterday until Daniel had 
brought it up that the doctor's words were rather doom saying. He, 
however, like the younger man believed that it was only a matter of time 
until his old friend would be back to himself. O'Neill was napping when 
the General entered the room. 

Hammond took a moment to sit down and study the resting face. There were 
new lines creasing the forehead and down along the mobile mouth. The once 
light brown hair was almost shocking in the amount of gray that it now 
sported. The cheekbones still stood starkly on the weathered face, and 
lack of flesh gave him a gaunt look. That, George knew was temporary. 
Jack was only in his early forties. The muscles, meat and skin would all 
recover to normalcy with time and food. It was the soul, the spirit of 
the man that worried him now. He was getting too used to seeing 
hopelessness and helplessness reflected in the people around him. How 
would it be when he got back to Texas? Would this feeling of loss and 
defeat be stamped on every face there too?

Hammond looked up to see Jack looking at him through half opened eyes. 
"Well, good morning, Colonel.

Jack smiled slightly. "I liked Captain better." He replied softly, 
referring to his rank as a Texas Ranger.

"Yes, and I liked Commander a lot better too." Hammond smiled warmly as 
he pulled his chair closer to the bedside. "This Generaling business is 
hard work."

O'Neill nodded, then indicated the uniform the older man was wearing. "I 
would have thought that you'd have gone to the other side. Why Union 
blue?"

"Well, Jack." He replied thoughtfully. "You know ole Sam Houston, he 
never did agree with secession. He worked long and hard to get Texas into 
the Union. He knew that Sante Anne wouldn't ever give up if it was just 
us Texicans. Sam and I had a long talk before I left. Hell, a couple of 
the boys suggested that we secede temporarily until the war was over then 
rejoin. But then that didn't seem to make much sense either." Hammond 
shook his head. "Nobody could agree. Terry took a bunch of the boys and 
went one way, I went ahead and left with the U.S. Calvary when it finally 
pulled out and got in through that back door." He looked at his friend. 
"You'd already hightailed it by then."

Jack nodded. "I went back to Illinois and joined there. They made me a 
Major to begin with, then as officers kept getting killed, they kept 
promoting me." Jack made a face. "I wound up under Custer. A nastier, 
meaner son of a bitch I never want to meet."

Hammond shook his head, "I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did. The 
Remount people call him horse-killer Custer."

Jack nodded. "Yes, the best thing to do was stay as far away from him as 
you could get. Everybody was shooting at him and when they missed, they 
got you accidentally."

"When did you get hit?"

"Cedar Creek, we were fighting Early's bunch." Jack glanced down at the 
heavily bandaged knee. "Cost me a damn good horse."

Hammond looked at him, meeting Jack's eyes with affection. "Nearly cost 
me a damn good Captain. I've missed you, you hard headed Irishman."

"And I've missed you, George."

Hammond looked at him, then spoke. "Jack, let me tell you what I've got 
planned for my future. I'd like you to think about joining me."

"George, I don't know..." He indicated his heavily bandaged leg.

"Jack, you and I both know that Doctors only know what they see." Hammond 
leaned forward to his friend and said in a low voice. "But you and me, 
and Danny-boy too, we know what's real."

                         *******************

Dr. Fraiser was at very definite loose ends. Everyone was doing something 
constructive except her. She wandered from the main part of the house 
into the kitchen area. The place was very clean, just no servants, no 
people around. She knew that young Jackson had gone into town with Davis, 
Samantha had taken Graham fishing, and the General was visiting with his 
friend O'Neill upstairs in his room. Even Teal'c had said something about 
going to the next farm to buy some fresh fruit and vegetables. 

Out of complete boredom, she started to make a pot of coffee for the noon 
time meal. So much for southern hospitality. She heard the rear door open 
and then slam shut. Well, at least she'd have someone to talk to, even if 
it was fighting over the patient.

Teal'c came in through the pantry area. He was carrying a basket and a 
cloth sack, both full to heaping. A mixture of smells came with him, the 
cloying sweet smell of ripe peaches, the cool smell of cantaloupes, and 
other good things. He looked at her in surprise. "Can I help you Doctor 
Fraiser?"

"Well, I actually wanted to see if you needed any help. Everyone seems to 
have deserted us." Luckily, Teal'c just nodded as she had not a clue what 
to say after that. He began sorting the food items, putting some eggs 
into a cooling bucket with cold spring water down into the root cellar 
area. 

She looked expectantly at him. "Can I do something? I'm not used to just 
watching. "

He tilted his head and regarded her curiously for a second. "Would you 
like to prepare the melons for the noon meal?" Teal'c asked.

"You mean peel and so on?" At his nod she picked up a small sharp knife 
that was on the wooden table. "Is four enough?" He bowed his head to her 
in a gesture of agreement. She settled down and began to eviscerate the 
cantaloupe. Teal'c watched her momentarily, then pulled up a stool and 
started on some potatoes. 

"How is the Colonel this morning?" Fraiser asked casually.

"He is well enough," the big man replied. "Perhaps a bit depressed."

"He has a lot to be depressed about." She commented softly.

"You do not feel that O'Neill will be well again." It was a statement, 
not a question. 

"Well, I believe that he can live a full and useful life." She replied 
honestly, "but I have some concerns over his leg."

Teal'c watched her. "I have seen the leg. There is no bone or sinew 
damage, the muscle has been damaged but that will repair itself."

"But, the amount of atrophy is staggering." She shook her head. "It's not 
impossible, but it is very hard to accomplish."

"Daniel Jackson thinks that it is possible." He looked at her with his 
inscrutable eyes. "Therefore, I must also, and Colonel will try his best 
for his friend. I would not wish to be the one to disappoint both of 
them."

She looked back down to the fruit she was cutting up. "I hope so too." 
She glanced back up to see him watching her. "I don't wish him ill, you 
know?" She said. "I would like it very much that all my patients could be 
as well as they want to be; they work to be...but sometimes it not 
possible. You can only do so much with flesh and blood."

"The mind is a very powerful tool." Teal'c said thoughtfully. "I have 
seen healthy men will themselves to death. And I have seen O'Neill will 
himself back to life."

The doctor looked at Teal'c as he calmly sat at the table and peeled 
potatoes. "What?"

"Doctor, I have seen many men die. Of sickness, injury, torture. I know a 
dead man when I see one. When I lifted that man into the wagon, I knew he 
was dying. Then the man-boy sat with him. He held his friend in his arms 
and spoke words of power to him. It made him live." The large man shook 
his head. "When I carried O'Neill to the room, he was different. I could 
call it magic, some would call it Indian medicine."

"But, what was it?"

"I would call it faith, and love."

                         *******************

At noon the house began to come alive with the sounds of people returning 
from their separate journeys. Samantha and Graham returned from the creek 
with several perch, a bucket full of crawfish and six huge bullfrogs. The 
two were wet, muddy, and giggling like school kids.

Daniel and Paul Davis returned with several treasures such as a bolt of 
cloth, several smoked hams, a large bag of rice, tea and coffee, and a 
crate containing several laying hens and a half a dozen pullets.

Teal'c and Fraiser had put together a meal of fried potatoes, boiled 
greens and some corn bread. With the added flavor of fresh sliced 
cantaloupe for a desert. The quick addition of the ham rounded off the 
meal to suit everyone. When Daniel had finished eating, he went back into 
the kitchen to prepare a plate to take upstairs to O'Neill. When the 
Doctor saw his actions, she followed him into the food preparation area.

"Mr. Jackson." 

Daniel turned around to face her, but didn't say anything.

"Mr. Jackson...

"Daniel."

"Daniel, I..." she stopped and started again. "Daniel, I'd like to say 
I'm sorry about last evening." He looked at her without speaking. She 
plowed on. "I guess I'm used to plain talk, I deal with life and death 
every day. I see men that deserve to live die, and I see men who don't 
continue to live. I'm not a mind reader, and I certainly don't have any 
special powers. I don't know your Jack O'Neill," she took a deep breath. 
"But the General says he's a very special person." Daniel nodded at her. 
Look, the General wants to come out next week again. I would like to come 
out also and see what I can do to help. He's very weak right now, and 
you're doing the best for him that can be done. I promise I won't do 
anything to hurt him."

Daniel continued to gaze at her with his thoughtful eyes. "Why?"

Fraiser looked at him, feeling a little embarrassed by what she was going 
to say next. "I'd like to learn from you. I want to learn this Indian 
medicine."

He thought for a moment, then spoke. "You know much more than I...I am no 
healer. If you would like to learn the healing ways, you should come with 
us to the Nations and learn from the great wise men." Daniel shook his 
head. "All I know is very plain medicine...to keep the wound clean, to 
treat the person with gentleness, and to try to lead them back to 
wholeness with some simple herbs." He shrugged. "It is not me that does 
anything, it is the person that heals himself. I was able to help Jack, 
because I know him well, that is all."

She looked at him in wonder. "May I come back?"

"Of course, and maybe together we can help the hawk fly."

                         *******************

That afternoon after a noon meal, the group gathered at the now empty 
wagon. General Hammond and the doctor in the wagon and the two young 
officers both mounted. 

"We'll be back in a week or two." The General said to the three friends. 
"I'll get Jack's paperwork in order, get some of his back pay, and then 
we can come out and see how he's doing. It's certainly been a pleasure to 
meet you all."

Samantha nodded and smiled at him. "We'll be expecting you, Sir."

Hammond looked at Daniel. "You take good care of that ole lobo you got up 
there in the pen, Daniel Jackson. He can be a bit snappish when his not 
getting his way. He'll be strong enough to be bored soon."

"I will," the young man replied with a smile. "Have a good journey."

And the wagon rumbled down the grassy lane flanked by the two young 
cavalrymen. 

                         *******************

Chap 7

The spring days turned into early summer. Jack, with the help of his 
friends, slowly grew stronger and more able to help himself. Walking was 
still a trial of agony. The knee joint had been affected, the muscles 
very weakened, but very slowly the infection began to heal and new flesh 
and muscle to form. The still painful evening treatments were a dreaded 
part of all their lives but Daniel insisted, supported, and withstood the 
verbal abuse that was given on many a bad day. Jack endured, persevered, 
and continued to improve slowly but surely. Finally, the first shaky 
steps were managed to much rejoicing.

Several days after his first few steps, an old rocking chair appeared on 
the second floor veranda outside the French bedroom doors. Nothing was 
mentioned or suggested, but after two days of it sitting just within his 
view, Jack called for Daniel.

That first trip of ten agonizing steps took an eternity and used every 
scrap of strength and determination Jack O'Neill's Irish gave him. With 
one arm over Daniel's shoulders and his eyes on his prize he was able to 
succeed in his assault and the taking of his objective. 

Jack learned two things that day. He was getting well, but it would take 
a hellish long time and a lot of sweat and grit. He also realized that 
the stripling boy that he knew five years ago had grown into a powerful 
young man who could shoulder his weight easily and smile with happiness 
to do it. 

With the conquering of the chair, O'Neill began to spend his mornings 
basking in the balmy Georgia sun, and watching the activities of the farm 
unfold before him. It became a group conspiracy to do everything in the 
front yard within his field of vision from unloading supplies, to 
grooming and tending the horses, to repairing equipment. 

To keep Jack's hands occupied, Daniel had found an old skinning knife 
with a broken blade, which he proceeded to grind down to a razor-sharp 
cutting edge. This he gave it to Jack along with some small pieces of 
white pine kindling. These blocks of wood not only kept his mind 
occupied, but also helped to build strength and dexterity in his hands 
again. The pine blocks ultimately became hand whittled chess pieces. 
After O'Neill finished the chess set a board magically appeared. Jack 
began to play the game with Daniel and during the day teach Samantha to 
play. She quickly caught on to the strategy and the two of them enjoyed 
the game.

Samantha and Jack were becoming good friends in their own right. He 
learned that she had an uncanny ability to manipulate numbers in her head 
and a mind capable of working out very difficult problems quickly. She 
had in fact, designed several simple machines to assist in some of the 
heavy chores that had taken large numbers of slaves to perform, allowing 
one or two of them to accomplish the work in a much shorter period of 
time. Sam delighted in showing her plans to him. He offered her the 
support and enthusiasm for her talents that were denied many women of her 
class.

Teal'c was the rock of the household. His patience and steadfastness with 
the often-difficult O'Neill was a wonder to behold. He and Daniel had 
formed a conspiracy of sorts to take care of the wounded man. Where Jack 
would argue with Daniel and whine with Samantha, often it took only a 
word or two from the gentle giant to coax the impatient patient into a 
new activity or a hated, painful repeated one. Teal'c also formed a bond 
of trust with Daniel, who was actively trying to recruit him to accompany 
them to Oklahoma. The Cherokee would eagerly welcome a man like him to 
the tribe. This Daniel hoped, would convince Samantha to come with them 
also. She relied on the big man as protector, and his quick wit often 
could see an easy attainable answer to the thorniest of problems.

General Hammond and members of his party had also become regular visitors 
to the farm. They continued to provide some basic staples for them from 
Hammond's personal supply issue, as even with money some common items 
could not be found readily on the open market. The General was also able 
to clear and get authorized the documentation for Jack's Honorable 
Discharge from the Army of the Potomac. That included a cash payment in 
US Gold dollars that the Colonel had earned over his time of service to 
the Union Army and the period of time during his captivity. O'Neill had a 
suspicion that the dollar figure had been padded somewhat, but Hammond 
had insisted not and wouldn't budge on the amount. George had announced 
that he had earned every damned penny of it, and he had just made sure 
the amount was correct.

The young Lieutenant Graham Simmons always came. He was little more than 
a boy and was enjoying the positive physical activity, shaking off the 
war as if it had been a bad dream to him. He enjoyed the instructions in 
math from Sam, woodsmanship from Daniel, and physical endeavor from 
Teal'c. He also viewed Jack as a combat hero, which did no harm to the 
recovering self-image of the slowly healing O'Neill Doctor Fraiser had 
made her peace with both the impatient patient and the caring caretaker. 
Janet would assist in the doctoring of the still painful and restrictive 
wounds that O'Neill suffered with, giving Daniel and Sam a much needed 
respite from the emotional and mental stress of caring for the almost 
invalid, Jack. He was now beginning to suffer from cabin fever, boredom 
and even depression over the time, effort and pain that his recovery 
involved. Fraiser had also started bringing her adopted daughter, Cassie, 
with her. The twelve-year-old girl was especially fond of the Colonel, 
and she could get him out of his doldrums in the flash of a smile or with 
an infectious giggle.

Captain Paul Davis came in his capacity as Hammond's aide, but was also 
enlisted in the chores and duties around the farm. He willingly assisted 
in the selection and purchase of some good draft animals and a stout 
wagon for hauling supplies and for the upcoming trip west after Jack had 
improved enough physically to withstand the journey. His friendship with 
Daniel could get the other man to relax and relate to someone his own 
age. Their differing backgrounds stimulated the sharing of ideas and the 
similarity in their ages challenged them both to friendly competitions 
and the stretching of their talents in riding and shooting.

                         *******************

During the days when they weren't occupied with the visits from their 
friends, or working the farm, Teal'c and Daniel had started taking on odd 
jobs for their neighbors who could pay to help with the money situation. 
Chopping wood, hoeing weeds from fields of cotton and corn, and building 
sheds and other structures would take Teal'c and Daniel all day but would 
bring in a little extra money that could be put away to purchase any 
special items that Jack or they as a group might need. Fresh nutritious 
food, with a special treat now and again, made it easier to tempt the 
still gaunt man to eat properly, and his physical recovery continued 
apace.

One early afternoon, Jack and Sam were sitting on the veranda playing a 
game, and waiting for the other two men to return home for the evening. 
Their attention was caught by a lone horseman coming up the lane at a 
dead gallop. A teenaged boy pulled his horse to a spinning stop. "Miz 
Samantha!"

Sam left the makeshift table where she had been sitting and leaned over 
the railing, waving at him to get his attention. "What's wrong?"

"Miz Samantha, that young feller of your'n got hurt." The boy shouted 
back. "He got knocked off the rafters and fell. He ain't waking up."

Jack had struggled to his feet and taken the two steps to stand next to 
her. "Where?"

"At tha Ferguson's, a few mile back. Your black is bringing him home in 
tha buckboard. He tole me to come ahead and tell ya."

"How bad is he hurt?" Sam called back trying to stay calm for both 
herself and the man standing beside her. 

"He's out cold and maybe a broke arm." The boy yelled back. "Ole Bob 
Sawyer, he swung a board around and thumped him good." He thought a 
moment. "Not a purpose, he's just stupid not mean."

Jack dropped his head to his chest. "Damn it to hell, Danny." He murmured 
as he shook his head. "What have you done now?"

Samantha looked at him with concern. "Come on, Colonel. Let's get you 
back inside, and I'll go get some things ready for their arrival."

By the time the wagon came into view, Sam had a cauldron of water boiling 
on the wood stove and was tearing up an old cotton sack for bandages. Sam 
had moved Jack back into the bedroom area some feet from the bed in his 
rocking chair.

When Teal'c had carried Daniel, bloodied and unconscious, up to their 
shared bedroom, Jack thought he'd go mad with worry as he could only 
watch Samantha and Teal'c take care of his friend from his place in his 
rocking chair. Daniel was bleeding from a gash in his scalp, a lump on 
his head, and one arm was scraped and beginning to swell at the elbow. 
Someone had immobilized it with two boards and some rags. Sam left that 
in place and concentrated on cleaning the dirt out of the laceration and 
off her friend's scratched face. 

As the two were concentrating on Daniel's injuries, someone came in the 
bedroom door. Teal'c was gone downstairs to bring up more water, so there 
was no one in the room other than Sam and Jack and their patient. At the 
sudden sound of the door opening, Jack bolted upright from the chair and 
took the four quick steps necessary to get between the bed and the door. 
He just about crashed into the petite Doctor Fraiser who was coming in 
carrying her black bag.

The woman, realizing whom it was and that he was just about to fall, 
grabbed him around the waist and compelled him to lean on her until she 
could hand him off to the General who was right behind her. Hammond got 
Jack back out of the way into his rocking chair and pulled a stool up to 
sit beside him. This allowed him to keep an eye on his old friend and 
restrain him from the Doctor's treatment area at the same time. 

Dr. Fraiser quickly joined Samantha, and she quickly bent to the task at 
hand. Sam stood by the doctor as she examined the laceration on his 
scalp, handing her clean rags dipped in the warm water. Sam watched in 
fascination as the doctor carefully applied stitches to the open cut, 
then painted a good coating of tincture of iodine to the ragged edges. 
After tending the head wound, Fraiser carefully unwrapped the splinted 
arm. She inspected in then performed some manipulations. She then 
rewrapped it without the splint. 

Daniel was now beginning to wake up, and he started to struggle against 
the attentions of the women. Jack started to rise from his chair. Hammond 
helped him up and supported Jack the few steps to the bedside. The women 
stepped back and allowed him access to the patient. "Danny, its Jack. 
Calm down, you're all right." The bleary blue eyes opened and verified 
the voice. Jack smiled down at him and stroked his cheek. "Just relax, 
you got a bump to the head and took a spill." At the sound of Jack's 
voice, the young man closed his eyes and relaxed back into the pillows. 
When he was sure his young friend was safely back asleep, Jack allowed 
Hammond to help him back to the chair. Janet smiled at him, nodded her 
thanks, and moved in to finish her work. She made a quick job of the 
facial abrasions, cleaning them and removing a speck or two of gravel.

A short while later, Fraiser was able to step back from Daniel and survey 
her work. She then turned and looked at O'Neill. He was sitting on the 
edge of his rocking chair as tense as a bowstring. She approached the two 
men where they were sitting. After Janet left the bedside, Samantha 
tucked the covers gently over Daniel, and picked up the bowl and soiled 
bandages that the Doctor had used. As she passed Jack she smiled at him, 
then left the room.

Janet pulled another stool over and sat down wiping her hands on a towel 
she had been using. "Colonel, he's going to be fine. He'll have a 
headache for a few days, but his arm is not broken and the cut on his 
head is fairly minor. It shouldn't even leave a scar."

"Thank you, doctor." O'Neill said gravely. 

"You're quite welcome. You gave me quite a start when you jumped up in 
front of me like that."

He grinned, a little embarrassed at his own precipitious defensive 
actions. "I've been practicing."

She smiled back at him. "I can tell. You've come a long way. I'm very 
happy for you."

He nodded towards the bed. "It was him, he wouldn't leave me be. He's a 
very stubborn man."

Fraiser remembered the conversations she had with Daniel about Jack."I 
know, believe me, I know."

Hammond smiled knowingly at the other man. "How long have you been 
walking, Jack?"

"Well, about a week and a half if you want to call it walking." He 
mumbled shy, self-conscious of the praise.

"Well, it's a damn sight better than you were when I first saw you here. 
So, have you decided what you want to do now that you're beginning to 
look like you have a future?"

"Been thinking on it." He replied, then glanced at the bed. "Looks like 
we'll have to postpone a little longer now." Hammond nodded. "Daniel 
wants to go back to the Nations and winter there. We'll need to leave no 
later than mid August, to beat the cold weather."

Janet had pulled another chair up and joined the two men. "What about 
Samantha?"

"I think Daniel has asked her and Teal'c to come along with us. We're 
hoping they'll both want to get a new start now that the war is truly 
over." He looked around at the room. "Though she may not want to leave 
this place." 

"On the contrary, Colonel. I would love to leave here." Sam came back 
into the room with a tray of lemonade drinks. "My father sent me away 
from here over ten years ago when my mother died. He sent for me as the 
war started, then left me here to run the place." She shrugged."I was 
leaving as soon as he came back anyway, to go back north to the school I 
graduated from. I was promised a teaching job there if I still want it."

"What about Teal'c?"

"Then he'll be free to pursue his own life...not spend it looking after 
me anymore." She glanced at her friend, the doctor. "What about you, 
Janet?"

"The General has asked that I go with him to Texas." The petite woman 
replied. "There's always room for a doctor there, even if she is a 
woman." Fraiser made a rather unlady-like face. "It seems that people 
here in civilization want a man doctor to tend their ills, not a woman 
who might faint at the sight of blood."

"I don't recall any fainting going on in here," Jack said dryly."Unless 
it was me when you started stitching and sewing on Danny over there."

Janet shook her head at him and smiled. She could tell that O'Neill was 
also tiring. He was a long way from being well himself. "Why don't we 
leave you alone, Colonel." She glanced at the younger man still asleep on 
the bed. "Daniel needs his rest, and" she waggled her finger at him, "I 
think so do you."

Jack nodded. "I think you're right. This worrying is hard work." He tried 
to smother a yawn, unnoticed.

Sam offered her friend her shoulder as the others left the room and 
helped him to his side of the bed. "I'll send Teal'c up later to help 
with your bath. By then Daniel will want to supervise your treatment 
anyway."

Jack nodded. "I'll supervise his too."She crossed the room and started to 
close the door after herself. "I'm not surprised."

                         *******************

After several hours, Daniel awoke under the concerned gaze of Jack. "Hey, 
partner. How ya feeling?" The older man asked gently.

Daniel looked up at him with pain reflected in the blue eyes. "What hit 
me?"

"From what we're being told it was a four by six board wielded by someone 
named Bob Sawyer, who's stupid but not mean."

The younger man grimaced. "So I jumped when I should have ducked. "

"Yep, that's about the size of it." He smiled at Daniel's frown, "Now 
what?"

"Do I have a black eye?"

"Yep, a black eye, a blue shoulder and elbow, and a red stripe down your 
scalp." Daniel reached his hand up to his head wound. He gingerly touched 
the stitches. "Ouch, what is this stuff in my head?"

"White man's medicine, or white woman's anyway." Jack reached over and 
took his friend's hand in his to keep him from touching the wound. "She 
stitched you up like a worn out overcoat then poured iodine over the 
wound. Said it would keep the bad things out of your head." O'Neill 
looked at him crossways. "Wished I would of known about that stuff years 
ago, would have saved me a lot of trouble."

"Now, Colonel," a feminine voice broke in. "I don't believe this young 
man ever had any bad things in his head." Dr. Fraiser came in the room 
with a tray laden with two plates of food in her hands."

"Well, I can't speak for his childhood, but his young adulthood period 
was a bit stressful on old Wise Eagle and on me."

"Wise Eagle?" She asked as she sat the tray down. 

"Daniel's Grandpaw. Now, Wise Eagle, he raised him from a pup." Jack 
smiled at his friend, "Only thing he couldn't break Danny of was 
wandering off to find new things."

Another tap on the door got all of their attention. Janet's daughter 
Cassie peeked in the doorway. "Can I come in?" She was a brown haired, 
big eyed twelve-year-old and adored both Jack and Daniel. 

Jack turned to her and smiled. "Sure darling, come say hi to Daniel and 
admire his purty black eye."

She slipped in the room, shyly. "Momma said you got hit in the head and 
fell offa something."

Daniel managed a small smile for her. "That about covers it all right. I 
guess I wasn't careful enough."

"Yeah, I'm sure you told that guy to thump you with that rafter beam." 
Jack chuckled. 

"You gonna tell a story, Jack?" Cassie asked seriously. "It sounded like 
one."

"Oh, which story would that be, honey?" Janet asked absentmindedly as she 
examined the wound in Daniel's light colored hair. 

"Why he and Daniel are such good friends."

"Well, that's just cause we really liked each other when we met." Jack 
explained.

"And he saved my life." Daniel offered. "What's not to like about that?"

"Oh, really?" Fraiser looked at the two men. "You two make a habit of 
this type of behavior?"

"Let me tell you something, Doc." Jack said seriously. "If you do decide 
to go to Texas with the General, you'll be seeing a lot more life saving 
or losing situations than in a normal eastern town. There are a lot of 
good folks out there, but there's some bad ones too. And from what he's 
telling me, where's he's going, there may be more of one than the other."

"So, are you going to tell me the story?" Cassie pleaded to get his 
attention.

Jack reached over and pulled her into a hug. "Tell you what. Danny only 
lets me tell this one once a year, so why don't we wait until after 
supper when we're all comfortable then I can tell it to everybody all at 
once. That way he can listen too and correct me when he thinks its 
necessary. Deal?" Jack looked over the girl's head and winked at his 
partner. Daniel just closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

                         *******************

That evening; after Daniel had woken up from his nap and the group had 
eaten the evening meal, they were all sitting out on the front porch. 
Teal'c had assisted O'Neill down the stairs and Simmons brought down his 
rocking chair. Sam and Janet had prepared a peach cobbler for dessert, 
and Cassie was still working on her serving. Everyone else had finished 
theirs and were sitting around filling each other in on the latest 
happenings.

Finally, Jack looked at the twelve-year-old who was fidgeting. "All 
right, young lady. I recognize that look from several other kids I'm 
involved with. What's your problem?"

"You haven't told the story yet." She reminded him primly. "You 
promised."

"Why what story is that, Cassie honey?"

"The one where you 'splain Daniel."

"Honey, nobody can 'splain, Daniel. He's a force of nature." Jack glanced 
over at his friend who rolled his eyes.

"I think it's bedtime, Jack." Daniel made as if to get up. "I know when 
it's time to retreat even without being in the Calvary."

"Don't you want to stay and see if I tell it right?" Jack answered. "I 
might lie, ya know?"

"Well, maybe in the pursuit of truth." Daniel settled back in the chair. 
"Though I sure would like a glass of milk after that cobbler." He winked 
at Cassie with his unblacked eye.

Cassie glared at him. "Okay, but don't start without me."

"Hurry up then, Cassie. You know how sneaky he is, he might escape." 
Hammond called after her as she left for the kitchen.

                         *******************

Chap 8

(Jack's Story)

The tall Texas Ranger rode his horse to the top of the small hillock and 
shifted his weight back into the saddle. The black Mustang obediently 
came to a stop then dropped his head to crop at the short grass when the 
reins were slacked. Jack O'Neill gazed out across the prairie valley and 
admired the huge herd of buffalo that were spread out in front of him. 
There were thousands of the black beasts as far as his practiced eye 
could see. He tilted his faded black sombrero back off his forehead and 
reached for his canteen. 

As he took a sip of the water, he noted another movement off to the left 
of the bunch. There he saw a small group of men, also on horseback, 
approaching the herd. They appeared to be Indians of some kind but not of 
the typical plains variety. Pulling out his telescoping spyglass, he 
checked them out for Tribal identity. 

After a few brief moments, he remembered hearing that a group of Cherokee 
was down from the Oklahoma Indian Nation in the area hunting to 
supplement their winter meat stores. He carefully stowed his glass back 
into his saddlebags, picked up on the reins and started down the hill to 
see if he could lend a hand.

But before he could get to them, he saw a small group of horsemen break 
away from the main party. Five or six men, all carrying rifles, were 
headed out into the herd. When they were quite close, they started to 
fire their weapons. As their prey beasts fell, the men would have to 
reload the old single shot weapons. People from the main group would 
drive out with wagons and begin to butcher and load the meat.

When O'Neill reached the group of men, he hailed the hunting party. "Ho, 
the wagons."

A middle-aged Indian stood up from the skinning detail and came over to 
greet him. The man's long hair was held in place with the traditional 
turban and he was wearing a calico shirt over his leather leggings. He 
watched O'Neill dismount. Taking in his dress, gear and horse in one 
glance he returned the greeting. "Ho, Ranger. How does it go with you?"

"It goes fine. I see you are hunting."

"Yes, it will be our last hunt this fall." The dark skinned man replied. 
"The winter is coming and the drought did not do us well in the Nations 
this year." He indicated the other men still engaged in the bloody 
business of skinning out a carcass. "We take the meat back to our 
families in the north."

O'Neill nodded. "It is a good thing to be able to care for the tribe. 
Would you like some help? I don't need to be in Fort Worth until next 
week, and I would like some company to camp with tonight. I am O'Neill; I 
ride with the Ranger Company out of San Antonio."

"A-se-hi, (yes). That would be good." The leader replied. "I am John 
Running Wolf from the Cherokee. I would finish quickly tomorrow or the 
next day so that we get back before the first blue norther comes." He 
rubbed his right arm with his left hand. "My bones tell me winter will be 
early this year."

Some of the hunters were arriving back into the party of men. One young 
man in particular guided his horse over towards where the headman and the 
Ranger were talking. "A-du-tsi (Uncle), have you seen Wa-ya (Coyote)?"

The man looked up at the hunter. "No, he went with you. He has not 
returned."

The young hunter grunted in frustration. "I will go and look for him. He 
has become separated from us...again"

O'Neill looked at his host, "I will go and help search for your hunter." 
At the leader's grateful nod, he mounted his horse and joined the other 
man. The two of them rode off towards the herd. As they approached the 
search area, Jack looked at the other hunter. "Who are we looking for?"

"We look for my uncle's adopted white son, Wa-ya." The young man replied. 
"He calls him Coyote, because the boy is very clever. I think we should 
call him Nu-da Go-dv-nv (crazy crawfish) because he's always going off 
into holes and getting lost."

O'Neill had to smile at the descriptive name. "What does he look like?"

The man smiled back. "He's very slender, with long legs like a Mustang 
colt and fair skinned. Tan hair, sky colored eyes and he rides an old 
roan pony. This is his first hunt and he was supposed to stay with me." 
He shook his head. "But Wa-ya always sees more than is there and must go 
and look, like a sa-lo-li (squirrel).

"All young ones are like that." O'Neill nodded. They were entering a 
shallow valley that split into two arroyos, with scrub brush and hollows 
that offered many hiding places. "Why don't we split up and see if we can 
find your sa-lo-li."

The other man nodded, "His white name is Daniel." He called as he turned 
his horse to the west valley. The Ranger nodded and rode east. 

O'Neill had been riding about ten minutes, when his horse raised his head 
and snorted. The Ranger loosened his rifle in its scabbard and made sure 
it was ready. Then he rode out of the arroyo and into another flat plain 
area. What he saw caused him to kick his horse into a flat headlong 
gallop. 

There was a small group of twenty stampeding buffalo being led by a huge 
charging bull. Directly in front of them was a boy on foot running for a 
stand of trees as fast as he was able. However, the animals were rapidly 
gaining ground on the youth and it was going to be bad if they caught 
him. O'Neill's horse was sprinting towards the boy but it would be a 
close race to see who got to him first. Jack, knowing his rifle to be 
useless at this speed, pulled his Navy Colt out of its holster, and as he 
drew near the huge animal, he started firing into the vulnerable neck 
area. Finally, the beast veered off from his pursuit and the rest of the 
herd followed his lead. 

Continuing on, O'Neill reached the runner and slowed his horse enough to 
grab the boy up off the ground by his arm and swing him up behind him. 
The Mustang turned the opposite direction from the herd and continued his 
hand gallop on into the sheltered area where the beasts couldn't see them 
anymore. When they had reached safety, the boy slid down off the horse. 
O'Neill dismounted, and regarded his rescued prize. 

"You hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." The youngster replied quickly. "I'm fine. Uh, thanks very 
much." He indicated the direction they had come from. "That old bull 
decided I was the cause of his troubles. My pony fell when he charged. 
Did you find her? Where did you come from"?

O'Neill shook his head at the verbal barrage. "No, I didn't see any pony. 
I was visiting with your father when another hunter came to see if you 
had made it back to camp. We had come looking for you." He reached a hand 
out to gently touch the young man's face, Daniel turned it slightly 
avoiding the touch but allowing Jack to examine an abrasion on his cheek. 
"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No, I don't think so." The young man answered quickly, "Oh, my name is 
Daniel and well, thanks for the timely rescue."

"You're welcome, young Daniel." Jack turned and mounted his horse, then 
reached down to pull Daniel up behind the saddle. "Let's go see if we can 
find your pony." 

The youngster hesitated a moment but finally reached up for the helping 
hand. O'Neill swung him up behind the saddle and they turned, picking 
their way carefully through the brush. "What made that ole bull go after 
you anyway? Looked like you had meat enough to handle your needs without 
him." O'Neill asked.

"I was looking for wounded animals. We don't like animals to suffer 
needlessly." Daniel shrugged. "There was a young cow that was gut shot, I 
wanted to end it for her. She must have been one of his favorites."

"I'd say so." O'Neill agreed. They rounded a small hill and saw a blue 
roan mare standing grazing. When she saw her young master, she nickered 
to him and took a limping step forward. Daniel slipped off the back of 
O'Neill's mustang. "You are hurt, Tsi-s-qua-yi." Daniel fretted, 
examining her injured leg. "You are too old for this, I think." 

O'Neill had to smile as the mare turned to nuzzle her master. She made a 
little huhuhu noise as she inspected him for damage. "That horse thinks a 
lot of you boy." He commented softly.

The youngster turned and flashed a bright smile at him. "She was my first 
horse I was given when I joined the tribe. She thinks I belong to her. I 
call her Sparrow because she is always singing to me like that."

"Well, let's get you and Sparrow back to camp." He dismounted and walked 
over to check the horse's injury. As he approached the pair, Jack saw a 
dark stain on Daniel's buckskin leggings. "I thought you said you weren't 
hurt." He pointed to the growing spot.

Daniel looked down as if in surprise. "It didn't feel that bad." He 
commented almost to himself. "I thought I just scraped it when I fell."

Jack pulled the skin away from the lean thigh muscle. There was a hole 
through the material the size of a silver dollar. "Scraped it on a 
buffalo horn from the look of it." He grunted. "You've got the lives of a 
cat, Daniel."

                         *******************

"...And he still does." O'Neill finished, picking up his refilled cup of 
coffee. "Thank you for the coffee, Samantha. Tale telling is dry 
business." He looked around smiled over at Cassie where she sat at her 
mothers feet.

"So that's how the two of you met?" Sam asked, her blue eyes brimming 
with more curiosity and questions.

Jack nodded. "I went on to Fort Worth the following day and didn't think 
anything of it until I was based out of a Ranger Post along the Red 
River. There I ran into Daniel and his folks again. We'd hunt together or 
just visit. Then, I was bushwacked by some outlaws I was trailing and 
left for dead. Danny's grandpaw, Wise Eagle had been down to the tribal 
gathering to sit on the council when they found me. I wintered with them 
that year and got my strength back."

Daniel nodded, "He joined the tribe that year, saw me get married, then 
left us to go to the war." He looked at his friend. "He never came back."

"Wasn't for lack of wanting, Danny-boy. Many a night I've lain cold, 
hungry and hurting in that camp thinking about what I been foolish enough 
to leave behind to go fight in the damned war."

"You're married?" Samantha turned to Daniel to press for more 
information.

"I was. Sha'nee...she... she died, two years ago." the young man dropped 
his eyes to the floor and shook his head. 

Jack reached over to Daniel and laid his hand on his young friend's 
shoulder. He'd been afraid to ask, but he'd known that Daniel couldn't 
have left his wife to search for him. Daniel looked up and met his eyes. 
He'd tell Jack later, but he couldn't talk about it now. It would upset 
both of them, and Jack didn't need that right now. Neither did he.

Hammond cleared his throat. "Well, now that you're well on your way to 
recovery, Jack. I have something to say." When he had everyone's 
attention, he continued on in a somber voice that Jack recognized. It was 
his sad pronouncement voice. "I'm leaving the army, Jack. I've got some 
business waiting at home to take care of." The General paused a moment, 
took a breath, then continued. "I lost my son at Gettysburg. He was with 
Hood's men at Little Roundtop. I got word that he was killed sometime 
back." He straightened his shoulders and continued. "He and...my 
daughter-in-law have two little girls. Now that the war's finally really 
over, I'm needed at home."

"I knew you couldn't stay to wait on me, George." O'Neill nodded. "I do 
appreciate everything you've done for us."

"Well, I'm hoping you'll come down and pay me back by taking that job I 
talked to you about."

"I'll just have to see," Jack returned. "I need to do a bit more healing. 
Then, then I'll think on it." He looked from Hammond to each member of 
his group. 

"I figure these are the folks that you want to go with you." Hammond 
nodded at him. "Good people, they ought to make the job easier."

"You let me know, Jack. Like you I got a long way to go to get home. 
I'll...we'll be leaving the end of this week. Just as well, I need to get 
there to gather some men. You know they disbanded the Rangers?"

Jack shook his head negatively. "I didn't, but I'm not surprised. A lot 
of the men fought with Terry and Hood for the Confederacy. The 
provisional governor probably won't trust them."

Daniel had been listening with interest. "I saw Ferretti and Siler. They 
made it through the war and were going back to San Antone." He saw the 
two men become interested in what he was saying. "They're who told what 
had happened to you."

Jack looked at him in surprise. "I didn't know anyone knew where I was." 
He glanced at Hammond.

"Jack, your Commander didn't just leave you, he lost the field." Hammond 
looked at him, gauging his reactions.

"Ferretti told me he went looking for you after the battle was over." 
Daniel commented. "He said he found your horse and sent him under."

Hammond looked somber. "Was Ferretti in your unit?"

Jack shook his head. "No, he was in Powell's division. I was with 
Custer's division. We were Calvary commanded by Major General Torbert who 
was under Sheridan. But we were Rangers together first."

"I don't understand," Janet Fraiser looked questioningly at both men. "If 
you were in different units...?"

Daniel looked knowingly at her. "Rangers don't leave anyone behind. If 
they're captured by Comanche or Apache or even Comancheros, they would be 
tortured. The Rangers always tried to take their wounded with them, or 
with no other choice, to kill them to prevent that from happening."

O'Neill spoke softly. "No one gets left behind."

"But surely not here, not when you're fighting a civilized foe." Janet 
looked shocked.

"No, probably not here," The General agreed, "but they would have tried 
to rescue him if they would have known where he was." He looked at Jack. 
"I heard you'd been captured, I wanted to arrange a prisoner exchange, 
but something happened and the upper echelons stopped all of them. By the 
time I'd been able to find you, well, Lee had surrendered and all the 
records were confused. I had hoped you'd been released." He smiled over 
at the young man in the rocking chair. "It took an Indian Scout to find 
you."

"And a very determined one at that. Of course, with a name like 
Jackson...I would expect no less." Jack grinned at the now blushing 
Daniel.

"I am no relation to Andrew Jackson, Jack O'Neill." Daniel denied, hotly. 

"No, but I'd bet a U.S.silver dollar to a Confederate bill you're part 
Scotch-Irish!"

                         *******************

The General and his group left early the next morning for their unit. 
O'Neill waved forlornly at them from his rocking chair up on the second 
floor. Daniel limped over to stand next to his friend. Jack smiled at 
him. 'We're a pair, aren't we?"

"Yes, a pair of lame ponies."

"Well, it gives us an excuse to stay and fatten up before we start the 
trip," Jack nodded, "now that Samantha and Teal'c are going with us."

"Oh, that's good." The younger man nodded at his partner. "Where was I 
when this happened?"

Jack looked at him knowingly. "You were unconscious."

"Oh." Daniel looked nonplussed and paused for a moment. "How long was I 
out anyway?"

"Well, you sort of came and went, but it was for several hours." Jack 
looked at him. "Don't do that again."

"Get hit in the head, fall off a roof, or be unconscious."

"Any of those." Jack grimaced. "I got a glimpse of myself in Cassie's 
mirror. I have enough gray hair to rival Wise Eagle."

"That was from your illness, not my doing." Then he changed the subject. 
"But now, we can wait for Dolly to finish."

"Dolly?" The older man looked confused. "Who's Dolly?"

"A very elegant old lady who has one more big job to complete before she 
comes west with us." At Jack's confused look, he continued. "She's been 
doing her best for all of us, so it is time for us to show her some 
consideration." Daniel smiled.

"Why haven't I met this paragon of virtue yet?" Jack demanded.

"Well, she can't quite make it up the stairs in her delicate condition." 
Daniel laughed. Then he pointed to the field that ran along the east side 
of the house. "Look, over there."

"Delicate...what?" Jack looked up at him with confusion. "You just said 
she was an old lady."

Daniel finally gave in and laughed softly. "She's an ole lady horse, 
Jack, a broodmare. See the long-legged bay there in the pasture with my 
ponies and the mule. She has been pulling the buckboard with Lillie, the 
molly mule. She's overdue by now, and Sam's getting worried about her."

"A horse?"

"No, a valuable broodmare, the last of her family's racehorse 
bloodlines." Daniel glanced towards the barn. "I think she's the last 
thing that Sam really cares about here. Everything else has been ruined 
for her." He looked back down at Jack. "You can see where I'm going with 
this..."

Jack could see and he understood. Everyone needs something to hold on to. 
All Samantha Carter had of her lost life of plenty and privilege was a 
falling down plantation house, an ex-slave, a too small mule, and an old 
broodmare with royal racing bloodlines and a foal in her belly. "So, we 
wait. How much longer till it's born?"

"Well, she could lay down and birth right now." Daniel said, "I looked at 
her yesterday and thought she was ready. But," he shrugged, "one cannot 
rush these things."

Jack had to smile at his friend, "Yes, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel tilted his head to the side, looking all the world like a curious 
colt himself. 

                         *******************

The rest of the week passed gently for they four friends. Then, on Friday 
night, after they had gone to sleep, a pounding came on the bedroom door. 
Daniel pulled on his pants and went to open it. It was Sam, also wearing 
trousers and a man's shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. "Daniel, 
it's time."

"I'll be there," he crossed back to the bed. "Jack, I'm going to try to 
help the mare."

Jack nodded. "I'll wait right here. Go tend to the horse, Danny."

Daniel turned and went out with Samantha. Jack managed to get out of bed 
and hobble over to his rocking chair. In the bright moonlight, he could 
watch the two young people cross the barnyard at a run to the corral 
area.

                         *******************

He must have fallen asleep in the chair. The next thing he knew was the 
bright morning sun on his face and a crick in his neck from sleeping 
upright. Daniel was asleep in the bed, still fully dressed.

As he meditated on trying to get up and back over to the bed by himself, 
Jack heard the door open. Teal'c entered carrying a tray of food. He sat 
it down on the small table by the fireplace and went out to where O'Neill 
sat. "Good morning."

Jack looked at him. "Is it?" He motioned towards the barn. "Is everything 
alright?"

"Yes, though I think we would have lost the mare without your Daniel." 
the big man shook his head. "I know nothing of such things except both of 
the animals are alive.

Jack nodded, "He's got a touch all right. I think the doctoring world 
came up short when they missed out on him."

Teal'c came out to the veranda and offered the older man his assistance 
to get back on his feet. "That is a truth, O'Neill. He has a healing 
talent." 

Jack leaned heavily on the big man's arm and they went back into the 
bedroom. He sat down at the small table and started to eat his breakfast. 
"This is good, Teal'c. Thank you for bringing it."

"It was no trouble. Samantha and I did not breakfast until late." He 
allowed a small smile. "She did not want to leave the horses."

"What does it look like?" Jack asked curiously. 

"It is a golden colored female. Samantha was surprised, and said they 
were very rare."

"It is very unusual." Jack agreed. "Those horses are worth a lot of 
money, to the right buyers."

"I don't believe it is her intention to sell the infant."

"The infant?" O'Neill was surprised at the turn of phrase. He looked at 
the man seated across from him. "Teal'c, where are you from? I don't 
believe I've ever met anyone like you before."

Teal'c looked at him with interest. "You are the first of your kind to 
ever ask me that. I am not from this, your country, originally. My 
people's tribe is from the place you call Africa, but I was born on an 
island in your southern sea. My mother was a free woman. When I was still 
a boy just entering my manhood, I was caught and put on a boat for a land 
you call Louisiana. That was over forty years ago. i still remember the 
land of my birth. Someday,I would like to return there to search for my 
family and to find a place to live free."

"So you weren't born into slavery." O'Neill looked at the big man in 
surprise. "It was supposed to be illegal to import new slaves into the 
United States."

"There are many things that are supposed to be illegal, but which occur 
every day." He looked at O'Neill who nodded.

"Well, I can appreciate your wanting to go home to look for your folks, 
but now you'll be able to live free legally in the United States." 
O'Neill looked at him. "And in the Indian territories, you would be 
welcomed."

"So Daniel has said. I would go with you to see Samantha and you home 
safe, then I will decide what I will do."

Jack nodded. "Of course, that's what living free is all about, making 
your own decisions, finding your place. It's a good thing."

                         *******************

Chap 9

Two weeks later, Daniel Jackson helped his friend, Jack O'Neill, down the 
stairs of the Carter house, and out into the yard. A golden palomino 
filly, seeing one of her familiar humans, trotted over and sniffed him 
looking for a treat. She accepted the small carrot from him then trotted 
back to her mother's side. Dolly was standing harnessed to the light 
buckboard with her regular trace mate, Lillie, the molly mule. They 
looked a little odd but worked well together, not unlike the group of 
humans that were their people. Jack chuckled at her antics, and Daniel 
smiled at his friend's good spirits. 

Samantha Carter climbed out of the heavily laden Conestoga wagon. "Well, 
I see you made it downstairs okay, but Teal'c should probably lift you 
in.

Jack made a face at her but nodded. "I had hoped to be better by now."

"You are better, Jack." Daniel replied. "You are so much better, I can 
barely believe it, but we cannot risk you accidentally hurting yourself."

"I know," the older man sighed. "but I'm just sick and tired of being 
sick and tired. When is this thing ever gonna heal?" Referring to his 
still infected leg wound.

"As with all things, in it's due course." The younger man smiled at him.

"Can I at least ride sitting up in the buckboard?"

Daniel shook his head. "Not yet. We talked about this. You need to lie 
down, the damage...."

Jack made a face at him and then sighed. "Okay, I get it...I get it. But 
Danny, I'm gonna be in the saddle when we get to the Nations, or your 
mother will not let me alone all winter long."

"But, Jack, think of all the attention you'll get from the Indian 
maidens," Samantha said to him gaily. 

"Hah!" Jack laughed at her surprised expression. "Danny, what have you 
been telling these people?"

"I've been telling them not to read Penny Dreadfuls and expect them to be 
true." The younger man said. "But Samantha insists." He shook his head at 
the young woman. "I just hope she's not too disappointed in the noble red 
man."

"Oh, I don't know, my Indian hasn't disappointed me yet." Jack teased him 
fondly. 

Teal'c came back to where there were talking from the front of the wagon. 
"I would say not, O'Neill. Are you ready?"

"I suppose so." He sighed and allowed the big man to climb up in the 
covered wagon's bed before hobbling over to its back where a flour barrel 
stood on end. He reached up to take Teal'c's hands, and Daniel lifted and 
steadied him to step up on to the wooden container. With this extra 
elevation, Teal'c effortlessly lifted the still thin man into the vehicle 
and supported him to where a feather mattress and blankets lay. Jack 
didn't say anything until he was firmly ensconced in his 'bed'. "Thank 
you, Teal'c."

He nodded to the injured man. "It is no problem, O'Neill." Then he 
climbed back down out of the wagon. "Daniel," Jack called.

"Yes, Jack?" He looked in the rear of the wagon as Teal'c climbed up into 
the box seat.

"Daniel, first town we come to, I want some boots."

The young man had to laugh, but quickly stopped at the forlorn look on 
his friend's face. "Jack, if I buy you boots, you will want to put them 
on. Then you will want to try them out, then you will want to walk...No, 
I think no boots for a little while yet. Besides, they will be Georgia 
boots, not Texas boots."

"So not fair." Jack bitched.

"But so right, isn't he Colonel?" Sam came to stand next to Daniel.

"Well, maybe a little," Jack had to smile at the two of them.

"But, I will make you some moccasins, Jack, so your feet don't get cold."

"Daniel, we're going to be crossing the southern states...my feet won't 
be cold..." then, O'Neill realized what he had said and changed his tone 
quickly. "But I sure would like to have a pair anyway." The two young 
people laughed at his contrite expression, then exchanged a silent look 
between them. Jack would have his boots at the first town.

Teal'c turned in his seat to look back into the wagon. "Are we ready, 
Samantha?"

Carter nodded her head and went to get into the buckboard. Daniel untied 
his two horses from the hitching rail by the house and led them back over 
to the big wagon. He tied Brown pony to its corner. "Do not feed him all 
the potatoes." Daniel warned O'Neill with a grin. "We will need them for 
the trip." Jack and the Indian pony traded knowing glances. Daniel shook 
his head and swung up on the red mare. Once mounted, he looked in at his 
friend. "Are you ready, Ta-Wa-di?" (Hawk)

"A-se-hi, Wa-ya!" (Yes, Coyote). Jack replied in Cherokee, then switched 
to English. "Take me home, Danny. I just want to go home."

"So do I, Jack. And we're headed there now."

Daniel took the point position and the Red Mare stepped off in a 
westernly direction, she knew the way back to where they belonged, the 
open land of the west. 

Teal'c slapped the reins down on the draft mules' back and the big wagon 
started off, following Daniel on the Indian pony to the free land of the 
west.

Sam looked back at the old plantation house that had been in her family 
for three generations, dashed a tear from her face with one hand, and 
spoke to her team. The mare and the mule followed the big wagon towards 
the new land of the west.

Jack O'Neill settled back into his place in the wagon. They were headed 
back towards the Mississippi River, to Oklahoma for awhile, then onto 
Texas and beyond. They were indeed headed home to his land of the west.

                         *******************

"And so that's how we all got started together." Sheriff O'Neill finished 
telling his story to the rapt crowd of Tok'ra Flats citizens. 

"That's a wonderful story, Sheriff," Mayor Debi sighed. "I'm glad you saw 
fit to share it with us."

"Well, I figured it was tamer than anything the town could have made up 
would have been." He replied with a grin. "People just naturally hate a 
mystery. What they don't know, they just imagine. At least now some of 
you know the real story." Debi just smiled at him and shook her head.

"What I want to know is why you ever went to Texas in the first place." 
Mz Devra commented. "I mean from Chicago to San Antonio, that's a long 
way."

The sheriff looked at her with a mysterious smile. "Well, Mz Devra. 
That's another story for another time." He glanced at the door to watch 
it swing open and admit Daniel, Sam and Teal'c. 

"Hey, Jack, look who I found." Daniel called as he took his heavy coat 
off and hung it on the back of a chair. He then came over to stand next 
to Jack and to the stove to warm his hands.

Carter and Teal'c did likewise. "So there you are, Colonel." Sam Carter 
admonished him gently. "The weather's getting so bad outside, I was 
getting worried where you were."

O'Neill smiled at her words. "You didn't have to worry none, Sam." He 
replied. "Ole lobos like me don't get lost; we just go to ground until 
the blue norther passes over us." He glanced at Daniel. "Even young 
Coyotes know to come in out of the storm." O'Neill looked at the two 
deputies. "Besides, I'm the one here in the warm next to the stove. Where 
have you two been?"

"Oh, just checking on the horses." She replied as she made her way over 
to stand next to the stove. 

"We have brought some of the older stock into the barn for the night," 
Teal'c explained. "Dolly was beginning to show signs of discomfort."

"Well, she is twenty-six years old." Sam replied. 

Doc Devra looked up in surprise. "That is old. I'm not sure I've ever 
seen a horse that old."

Sam nodded with a straight face and twinkling eyes. "Yes, in horse years, 
she's even older than the Sheriff."

"Yeah, and she's been around you a lot longer, too. That will add years 
by itself." O'Neill replied to the teasing with his own.

Sam ignored his comments and looked at Daniel. "I tried to bring Brown 
Pony in, but he wouldn't come. 

Daniel shook his head. "He's a Mustang, born wild. He won't go in a barn 
if he can help it. He, Red Mare, Feather, and Hawk will huddle up on the 
sheltered side of the barn. Don't worry about them."

"Well, now that's all settled, I'm going to bed." He glanced around the 
group that was still sitting in the Dining room. He smiled and nodded 
then, the Sheriff stood up and headed for the stairs to the rent rooms on 
the second floor of the Emerald City. If someone looked closely, they 
might see a little give to the left leg, but nobody did.

Daniel picked up the last biscuit from the plate where it was sitting all 
lonely like, took a large bite, waved goodnight, and trotted over to the 
stairs to follow O'Neill up to his own room next to the Sheriffs. 

Sam poured herself another cup of coffee and settled down to talk with 
the other ladies that remained in the dining area. She wanted to talk to 
Mz Angel about getting some special equipment that she needed for a 
project she was going to start soon. And she also wanted to get better 
acquainted with the newcomer, Mz Lewie. She was curious to find out where 
she was from, since there seemed to be a southern drawl in her voice and 
tp learn why the woman sometimes looked so sad when she thought no one 
was watching her.

Teal'c took his cup, filled it and retreated to his quarters with two 
donuts. He needed time to practice his spiritual meditations and then to 
get a good night's rest. Though, it had been a happy experience in this 
new home of theirs, it had indeed been a long Founder's Day Celebration. 

The end.... of this story.

                         *******************

AUTHOR'S NOTES ------------------------

For references to the battle of Cedar Creek where Colonel O'Neill was 
wounded and captured, go to The American Civil War Overview CHAPTER XVII 
THE EASTERN THEATER: SHERIDAN'S SHENANDOAH VALLEY CAMPAIGN. (I went 
through ASK JEEVES FOR KIDS)

Interestingly enough, the Confederate General Early's Army of the Valley, 
with four infantry divisions and a division of cavalry, was to be 
reinforced by mid-August with Kershaw's infantry division and Fitz Lee's 
cavalry division. These reinforcements, under the command of General 
Richard Anderson, were to support Early's operations east of the Blue 
Ridge. (play Twilight Zone theme please!)

FOR information on the Southern POW camp known as Camp Sumter (or more 
infamously as Andersonville) go to 
http://www.angelfire.com/ga2/Andersonvilleprison/diary.html

And for the English--Cherokee Dictionary...go to 
http://wehali.com/tsalagi/index.cfm?


                         *******************

Come Saturday Morning
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: PG

WARNINGS: Gratuitious nudity, and peeking. 

CATEGORY: Alternate Universe, POV, Series, Smarm, Other 

PAIRING: None

SUMMARY: The Sheriff and the Deputy take a day off and the Mayor gets a 
surprise. I don't know what this song is nor who sang it other than Mark 
Lindsay on one of his albums. But I think it's from a movie made in the 
60s. If anyone recognizes it let me know please. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

Come Saturday morning
I'm going away with my friend
We'll Saturday spend 
till the end of the day

                         *******************

The Discoverer

I had taken my mare Scarlet out for a quiet Saturday morning ride down 
along the Rio De Nada. Now, those words in English mean river of nothing. 
Yet, here in the southwest, no river is nothing. It is invariably the 
heart of all life in the local region. Everything depends on it for water 
and in some cases food. Then there are some that need it for life itself.

The beauty of being on horse back is that you tend to blend in with the 
sights and sounds of nature herself. Horses are quiet critters by 
temperament and aren't likely to cause a ruckus. Wild animals just kind 
of accept you into their midst as if you were one of their own and 
belonged there. This all adds up to the ability to blend in with your 
surroundings.

Now, we were just following an old deer trail along through the woods 
kinda quiet like, and keeping the river within sight of our travels, when 
Scarlet raises her head and perks her ears. This is her signal to me that 
she hears something unusual up ahead of us. So, I start to keep an eye 
out too, to see what she's trying to show to me.

Sure enough, just a little bit farther along, I start to hear human 
sounds. Two men, from the tone of the voices, and they're talking quiet 
like and low. Now, I'm not meaning to spy on anyone but life out here in 
the Indian territories will teach you that it's better to know more than 
you need to than to be taken by surprise.

So, we ease on up this little rise and I see two horses, standing 
picketed and a drowsing there in the dappled shade of the mesquite trees. 
One a golden chestnut paint, the other a big stout iron gray appaloosa. 
They look awful familiar. As I cast my eyes along the riverbank I see a 
man shape that goes with these particular ponies. I was right, I do know 
these two hombres.

The first one I see is a long, tall drink of water sitting on the river 
bank leaning back on a great big ole cypress tree. He's got his shirt 
off, his hat pushed back and his bare feet and a fishing pole both 
dangling in the cool, clear water of the river. Sheriff O'Neill looks to 
be just about half-asleep, his freckled, tanned shoulders and arms are 
relaxed and his strong fingers are casually fiddling with some 
contraption that is attached to the pole he's holding. As I watch, I can 
see that he's using it as a kind of spindle to pull in line that he's got 
a baited hook attached to. And I can see he's talking to someone; but I 
can't see who his palavering partner is right off, though I do have my 
suspicions.

About that time the other man come into my view, and it's no surprise 
that it is Daniel, the Sheriff's deputy and his best friend. What is a 
bit of a shock is what the young man is, or rather isn't, wearing, which 
is nothing at all. Of course, his state of undress makes perfect sense as 
he is wading into the shallows from the deeper part of the river where 
he's been swimming. Daniel makes his way up to the bank next to where 
O'Neill is sitting with his fishing gear. As Daniel reaches his friend, 
the older man reaches over to where their horse gear is a laying and 
pulls a serape off of the back of his saddle. He hands Daniel the blanket 
and the youngster spreads it out on the sandy loam bank of the river by 
O'Neill. He then proceeds to stretch himself out to bask in the warm 
spring sunshine looking all the world like a half-grown panther cub just 
tuckered out from the hunt. I have to admire the play of the golden 
sunlight on the smooth skin that's laying exposed to my secret, prying 
eyes.

O'Neill also glances over at his companion and smiles at the young man. 
He comments on something that makes Daniel laugh in that low throaty way 
of his. O'Neill then skillfully flips the hapless worm back out into the 
water and settles himself back against his comfortable tree trunk again. 
Daniel rolls over on his belly and watches his friend for a bit, adjusts 
his position on the blanket and stretches out to relax his muscles in the 
warmth of the sun. Finally, he turns his face towards O'Neill and 
seemingly dozes off, comfortable and content under the sheriff's watchful 
eye.

I lift my reins and Scarlet obediently presses forward, following the 
trail further up and along the ridge. I won't bother the two companions. 
They have earned this respite from responsibility and the public eye and 
they deserve a little peace and quiet on a beautiful spring day in these 
mountains above Tok'ra Flats.

                         *******************

The Discovered

Jack O'Neill was sitting in the shade of an accommodating Cypress tree 
that had shown the good sense to grow close to a deep drop-off in the 
river. He had long ago shucked his long sleeved shirt and boots in the 
warm springtime temperature; baring his torso to the spring sunshine and 
dangling his bare feet in the cool water of the river. He was fishing, 
trying to concentrate on his bobber as it swirled and eddied in the clear 
water when Daniel swam over to the bank of the river and waded back to 
dry land. 

Jack canted his head up to watch his friend as he splashed his way back 
to his side. It was like watching a young Poseidon emerging from the sea. 
Daniel was totally nude, the handsome face was without the spectacles and 
his long sun-bleached hair pushed back by his swimming activities. The 
broad shoulders narrowed to a slim waist, and the strong, well made limbs 
carried him easily with the power of healthy youth. His was the beauty of 
a vigorous young animal that was completely unaware of the affect that he 
would have on anyone who might look upon him.

The younger man was dripping river water as he approached and Jack 
reached over to where their saddles lay together on a bunch of dry leaves 
safely away from the water's edge. Jerking on the leather strings with 
one hand he pulled his old serape off the cantle and pitched it one-
handed to his friend. 

"If you get sick from running around in your all-together in this fresh 
air and cool water, Doc Fraiser will never let me hear the end of it." 
O'Neill complained affectionately. "Get over here and warm yourself up, 
for crying out loud." Daniel proceeded to spread the soft blanket-like 
material over a sunny spot of ground next to where O'Neill was sitting. 

"Honestly, Jack. First you warn me about water moccasin snakes, now 
you're worried about the air and the water. Worry about your fishing. I 
haven't seen you catch one yet and it's almost lunchtime. " Daniel 
teasingly returned. "I brought cheese and jerky in case, but I'd rather 
have the fresh fish."

"Well, for all your splashing around, they're probably spooked all the 
way back up stream to the Colorado River or the Rio Grande or wherever 
the De Nada starts."

The young man stretched out on the sun warmed blanket and laughed softly, 
shifting his hips to find a comfortable spot. Jack glanced over at him 
admireringly, then commented. "You do know we're not alone. There's 
someone up there on that ridge in the trees."

Daniel rolled over onto his stomach and looked up at his mentor. "I 
thought I heard the horses. Can you tell who it is? "

"Weel, it looks like the Mayor on that red mare of hers. "

"Humm, probably just out for her Saturday morning ride." Daniel 
commented, trying to find a comfortable spot for his nap.

"Probably...Oh, there she goes." 

"Yes, there's an old game trail up there on top of the ridge." Daniel 
said as he lay his head down and closed his eyes. "She probably just 
didn't want to disturb us." He smiled to himself, "Or I scared her off, 
me being naked and all."

Jack looked down the long, lean, golden length of his best friend and 
said musingly. "Daniel, there are many reactions I've heard of from 
ladies that have seen you without your clothes on, but scared off has 
never been one of them."

And I and my friend
We'll Saturday spend 
to the end of the day
And then we'll move on
But we will remember 
long after Saturdays gone 

Finished


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: A Story From The Table In The Sheriff's Office
by Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G

WARNINGS: minor language 

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Challenge, Crossovers,
Drama, Hurt/Comfort, POV, Series 

PAIRING: None

SUMMARY: Something from a different point of view. POV of a table that is 
owned by the Sheriff of Tok'ra Flats and can be used anywhere in the 
Town. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This a crossover with the Table Series and was written 
for the SG1 table challenge. 


                         *******************

I am a table. I am a rectangular four-foot wide by eight-foot long, 
golden oak table with lots of grain, a leg on each corner, and a good 
deep rubbing of tong oil. This is important, because it adds to my 
versatility, my waterproofing and my longevity. I was created by a New 
England Craftsman, purchased in the early 1850's by a German family to be 
taken to their new home in the west. However, when they got to the little 
town of Tok'ra Flats, they decided that I was too heavy for the team to 
cart over the high mountains. The Sheriff who was in charge back then 
bought me and put me here in his office. Not long after I was delivered, 
he went away and I sat in the dusty dark empty office for a long lonely 
time. Now, though there is a new Sheriff and deputies in town and I am 
always in use for one thing or another. I can seat eight formally, ten 
comfortably, and twelve friendly. Because I lost my chairs on that day 
long ago, there are often benches at my sides and regularly many 
different kinds of objects on my surface. My life is now one of 
utilitarianism not formal dining. In other words, I'll see a lot of 
service of all kinds.

I haven't seen the tall Sheriff in several days. He and Young Rider 
Simmons had left Tok'ra Flats to investigate something in the high 
mountains. A big burly Mobile had come into the office and said many evil 
things about the Anasazi people that live at the mission with Tall Padre 
Joe. The big Mobile spoke of missing animals and something called a Mine. 
He was very unhappy and said many angry words to Tall Sheriff O'Neill.

When he had left Tall Sheriff Jack called in his three Deputies. He told 
Buckskin Deputy Daniel and Large Deputy Teal'c to go to the Mission and 
to see what was going on and who was there. Buckskin Daniel said they 
should go with him to the Mine in the High Mountains but Sheriff Jack 
said he would take one of the Riders because Buckskin Daniel could talk 
to the Mission People in their native language and find out the truth. 
Lady Deputy Sam would stay and keep the peace with Rider Captain Ferretti 
until they returned. She was not happy and wanted to go to the Mine with 
him also, but the Sheriff said Young Rider Simmons would do better cause 
of his knowledge of something he called ore.

So they had all done their duty. Buckskin Deputy Daniel and Large Deputy 
Teal'c came back in two days and talked to Judge In Charge Hammond who 
had come to sit at my side while Tall Sheriff Jack was gone. They told 
him that all the Mission People were there and Tall Padre Joe said that 
they had been planting their crops and never left the Mission fields. 
Lady Deputy Sam and Rider Captain Ferretti said they had spoken to the 
Mayor and the City Council at their meeting. That they had said that the 
Mission People were very peaceable and not to blame, that the big burly 
Mobile was a drunkard and a bad man and only wanted to cause Tall Padre 
Joe and his Mission people trouble because he didn't like the Anasazi.

Judge In Charge Hammond said he suspected that was true, but it was their 
job to find out for sure and do what was the right thing for the Town, 
the Mission and the Local people. That night came and went. Buckskin 
Deputy Daniel stayed in the office and read some of the town library 
books on my surface until he fell asleep face down on the book's paper 
pages and me. The next morning, Lady Deputy Sam and Large Deputy Teal'c 
found him there and fussed at him. Well, she did. Large Deputy Teal'c 
only nodded at him. They took him to the Saloon for breakfast and then 
they all came back to sit around me and worry together.

Judge In Charge Hammond had come and said that maybe Sheriff O'Neill and 
young Simmons were just taking a mite longer or perhaps a horse had gone 
lame. Buckskin Deputy Daniel said that they were riding the sheriff's 
Appaloosa Hawk and the Mustang Brown Pony and they were good ponies and 
he was worried. Lady Deputy Sam said that too. Large Deputy Teal'c didn't 
say anything, but he looked concerned also.

All that day the Deputies and some of the Riders came and went from the 
office. The Mobiles all appeared worried about the two missing men. The 
Deputies and Captain Rider Ferretti packed their saddlebags to be ready 
to go the next morning. 

The next day the four mobile partners left early in the morning. Judge In 
Charge Hammond and Blacksmith Rider Siler came and sat at my side. While 
the older Judge mobile sat and read some very thick heavy paper books, 
Blacksmith Rider Siler got bored and turned me on my side. At first I was 
a little worried, (one can never predict mobiles after all) but he 
tightened my four legs. Then he set me back up and used good oil to clean 
my surface and polished me till I glowed golden again.

Late that afternoon, we all heard a ruckus out in the street. A horse 
galloped up and I heard Lady Deputy Sam yelling in a loud voice. Judge In 
Charge Hammond and Blacksmith Rider Siler both ran outside. Siler ran 
back in and grabbed his hat and his gun belt, then ran back outside 
again. Judge Hammond came back in and sat down heavily by my side. He sat 
still for a long time.

Soon some of the local town lady mobiles came into the office. Tall Mayor 
Debi and the City council mobiles, Medium Miz Angel and Small 
Veterinarian Devra came into the office. Judge In Charge Hammond looked 
up at them.

"May I help you, Ladies?" Judge In Charge Hammond asked politely.

Tall Mayor Debi came up and stood across me from the Judge In Charge. 
"Judge, there's been a lot going on in town today," She started speaking 
rather firmly. "We would like to know what it is."

"Now Ladies, " Judge In Charge Hammond started speaking in his official 
Judge voice.

"Now, George, when you start with that 'Now Ladies' speech, it jest sets 
my hackles up." Tall Mayor Debi leaned her hands on me and spoke directly 
to him.

"Yes, Judge," Small Miz Devra spoke up. "We just saw Sam and Dave Siler 
set out like a house on fire to the barn..."

"And we know Daniel's been worried about the Sheriff being gone so long." 
Medium Miz Angel finished.

Judge In Charge Hammond looked up at them in surprise and shook his head. 
"How do you Ladies know about these things all the time?'

"Now, Judge Hammond, these two ladies have children in school with your 
two Granddaughters and you know how younguns know about everything that 
goes on in a town." Tall Mayor Debi replied, "That and the Sheriff and 
Daniel are still living at my saloon." She looked at him. "I know that 
the Sheriff hasn't been back in two nights and Daniel spent yjr first 
night at the jail and last night prowling my place like a mountain lion. 
It wasn't hard to figger something was up."

Judge In Charge Hammond shook his head. "Very well, but this is not for 
the public ears yet. I don't want anyone to do anything foolish till I 
find out what really happened. Sheriff O'Neill and Young Simmons went up 
to Devil's Backbone to investigate some allegations made against some of 
the Indians from the Mission," He raised his hand to forestall their 
indignation. "Now, now, I know as well as you, it's unfounded, but you 
know the Sheriff...he's not going to take any fol-der-rol off of anyone." 
Hammond shook his head, "This morning the deputies and Ferretti went 
looking for them."

"We saw Sam come riding in like the pony express..." Medium Miz Angel 
said.

The sound of a buckboard being pulled by two horses driven at a fast trot 
rattled by the front of the Sheriff's office. Small Miz Devra ran to the 
window. "It's Sam Carter and Dave Siler." She announced, "and they're 
leaving that buckboard in an awful hurry."

Tall Mayor Debi looked at Judge In Charge Hammond. "I'd say that means 
that someone's hurt, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Ladies," Judge In Charge Hammond said quietly, "They're both hurt, 
But I'm not sure how bad other than the Sheriff can't sit a horse. So, 
they've gone to get them with the wagon to bring them home."

"Well," Small Miz Devra looked at the others, "I'd say that Sam's young 
mare needs to have the right kind of cooling out, a good rubdown and a 
nice bran mash. She looked pretty done up. I think I'll go and make sure 
she gets it." The lady vet nodded to her two friends and the Judge, 
turned and left the office.

Miz Angel nodded, "I'll go tell Doctor Fraiser and Sally so they can get 
ready. I just got a shipment of medicines in for her and she might need 
something out of it."

The Mayor looked at the Judge then glanced around the office. "Lets get 
this place ready," she said, then tall Mayor Debi started picking up the 
books and things from my surface to get me prepared for when the deputy 
mobiles returned with the injured men.

After several long hours of anxious waiting, the group returned with the 
sounds of horses and the rattle of the buckboard that stopped in front of 
the Sheriff's office.

Lady Deputy Sam came in first to hold the door open. Large Deputy Teal'c 
came in carrying the sheriff in his strong arms and lay him on my 
surface. Buckskin Deputy Daniel helped to settle him gently on my clean 
table top. I bore his weight easily, though a tall man the sheriff is 
slender and not heavy at all for my strong top and oaken legs.

Small Doctor Janet and Tall Sally Hammond came in behind them carrying a 
black valise. The doctor immediately came to my side and began to look at 
our poor injured sheriff. Daniel stood next to him gripping his hand 
tightly. Tall Sally shooed the Judge, the deputies and other people out 
of the door, closing it firmly behind them. Then she pulled the curtains 
shut so they couldn't see in through the curtains.

"Help me get his shirt off." The Doctor said succinctly. Deputy Daniel 
pulled his hunting knife from his scabbard and cut the sheriff's bloody 
shirt off of his injured body. 

I felt more than heard his quiet low moan as he gently pulled the torn 
material away from his friend's wounded side. "Daniel," the Sheriff's 
voice was weak.

"Yes, Jack" Buckskin Deputy Daniel leaned down close to listen to his 
friend's faint voice.

"Good shirt..."

"Not anymore, Jack."

"Daniel,"

"Jack lay still so that Doctor Fraiser can get the bullet out of your 
side." Buckskin Deputy Daniel's voice was soft and gentle to his wounded 
friend, but I felt the sheriff shake his head. 

"Danny, about what happened between us a coupla weeks ago, I'm sorry I 
rode you so hard, I didn't have no cause to be like that."

"Hush, Ta-wa-di (Hawk), it is of no matter." Daniel brushed the unruly 
brown and silver hair back from his brow. "You must rest now, da-ni-ta-wa 
(blood brother)."

"No, I was wrong."

The worried young man spoke to him again. "Yes, you were wrong, but so 
was I. You were worried; I was gone too long and acted foolishly by 
walking in on my leg like I did, but it is past. Now we have other things 
to do." He looked up at the small Doctor Fraiser. "Are you ready?"

Tall Sally Hammond had followed the Doctor into the Sheriff's office and 
on my surface she had carefully laid out several long pointed objects in 
a precise order. The objects gleamed shiny and clean.

Small Doctor Janet nodded wordlessly. Buckskin Deputy Daniel stood up 
straight but held onto the Sheriff's hand. Tall Sally handed the doctor a 
device, a small wire frame with a handle. Muslin cloth was stretched 
tight across it. This she held to the sheriff's face and nose and she put 
drops of a pungent liquid on the cloth. Slowly, the Sheriff began to 
relax with the smelly fumes, but even I could feel the Sheriff's and the 
Deputy's eyes holding with each other until the injured man fell into a 
deep painless sleep.

Daniel pulled up a chair and sat by Sheriff Jack's head, gently laying a 
hand upon his forehead. I could just barely hear the sound of a soft 
sing-song chanting that came from the young man. It was a soothing sound.

Tall Sally Hammond stood beside Small Doctor Janet as she began to do her 
work. The Doctor carefully used a very thin and sharp knife to open the 
wound a little so that she could see better where the bullet had gone. 
Then she started speaking to Sally, asking her for the different things 
from where they lay on the clean cloth. 

It seemed to take forever, the Sheriff lying on my sturdy top, Daniel 
singing softly under his breath, Sally handing the instruments to the 
Doctor and she concentrating on working quickly and deftly to remove the 
bullet. Time has no meaning to a table, but it does to my mobile friends 
and I could see the worry in them for the sheriff. The bullet had bitten 
deeply into his tender flesh and caused a lot of damage. Doctor Janet was 
biting her upper lip in worry and every so often Tall Sally Hammond would 
pat the dampness from her face with a clean cloth. 

There were shadows on the curtains of the front doors as some of the town 
mobiles walked back and forth in front of the office, waiting to hear 
news but knowing they could not enter.

Finally, I heard a soft sound from the Doctor and then a harsh thumping 
noise as a piece of lead was dropped onto my surface. The bullet had been 
found and removed at last. Small Doctor Janet carefully cleaned the 
damaged area of the sheriff's surface, then covered and bound it with a 
clean cloth for protection. Doctor Janet looked up and met the Deputy's 
eyes with a smile. "There, that's done it. He was very lucky. It doesn't 
appear to have damaged any internal organs or bones. It will be a while 
before he does any more dancing or horseback riding, but he should be 
fine."

Buckskin Deputy Daniel looked at her and said in a calm voice. "Thank 
you, Doctor, for your healing skills." Only I could feel the hand he had 
on my tabletop was trembling.

She smiled at him. "The Sheriff is quite welcome to my skills, as are 
you, though I'd sooner not practice them so often here in this office." 
She and Sally began to pick up all the instruments and wrap them up in 
the now bloodstained cloth. 

Tall Sally spoke to the Doctor. "I like the idea of washing these with 
the very hot water, Janet. It just seems to get them so much cleaner."

The sacred fire will purify the water and cleanse them of evil." Daniel 
murmured as much to himself as to his friends. 

Doctor Janet nodded, as she watched him gently stroke the sleeping man's 
forehead. "What was that you were singing, Daniel?"

He smiled a small soft smile at her. "Jack would think me superstitious, 
but I was chanting a healing song of my people."

"No more so than an Irishman saying his rosary," she smiled at his 
shyness, "and I happen to know where there's at least one doing that even 
as we speak."

"With two small girls helping him with his Hail Marys." Sally spoke up, 
"And probably an old Judge too."

"Well, Sally. Let's go cleanse these instruments in the water heated by 
the sacred fire. We still have young Simmons to tend."

Daniel looked at her for a moment to see if she were teasing him, but her 
steadfast gaze assured him of her seriousness. "You remember, Daniel, you 
were the one who opened my eyes to the value of your people's ways. I am 
not a fool to deny what I've seen for myself; this man dancing on his own 
two feet at the festival showed me all the proof I need." She leaned over 
to him and lightly brushed the long unruly hair off his forehead. "I've 
got to go now, I know you'll take good care of him."

The two women left out the front door and Daniel hear it close behind 
them. Then Tall Padre Joe O'Neill came over to my side and pulled up a 
chair beside Daniel and his sleeping brother. He looked at the Deputy. 
"How is he?"

"Janet says he will be fine." 

"Then, surely it must be so."

Daniel only nodded, continuing to absentmindedly stroke his friend's 
forehead.

Padre Joe watched his brother's face for a long time then glanced up at 
the younger man. "I'm told you saved his life today."

"Perhaps, perhaps not..." Buckskin Daniel only shrugged. 

"And that you have done so before."

"And so he has done for me." Daniel looked up at the Priest. "He is my 
da-ni-ta-ga, my blood brother.". He shrugged. 

"And he is my brother, my true brother." Joe smiled at the younger man. 
"And you are my true friend." He looked down at the man asleep before 
them. "I will go to the mission now and all of us there will all pray for 
his safety and his healing. Thank you again."

Later that evening, Large Deputy Teal'c came with a litter and they moved 
the Sheriff from my surface to his room at the Emerald City Saloon. I 
would not have minded if they had left him on my surface, but I am made 
of good Oak and though I can support a greater weight than the slender 
sheriff's, my top is very hard.

It was several weeks before I saw the Sheriff again. The Deputies came 
and went as always. Sometimes Judge In Charge came and sat at my side. He 
told the story of how the big burly mobile had set a trap to dry gulch 
Tall Sheriff O'Neill and Young Rider Simmons. How the evil mobile had 
tried to kill them both in a blind canyon and how Tall Sheriff had saved 
Young Simmons life but had taken the bullet instead and then lay helpless 
out in the open with the hot sun on him.. How the deputies had come but 
been pinned down while they fought it out with the dastardly coward. 
Then, under the cover of darkness, Buckskin Daniel had used his Indian 
skills and crept out into the open and drug the Sheriff away to safety as 
Captain Rider Ferretti exchanged shots with him and finally killed the 
evil villain. 

Everyone found the story very brave and exciting except Captain Rider 
Ferretti and Buckskin Deputy Daniel. They were both embarrassed by the 
story, Ferretti saying that he failed because he had to kill the man and 
Daniel saying he'd done nothing special after all. Sheriff Jack just said 
he wished he'd been awake to enjoy all the bravery and excitement but 
that he'd been unconscious the whole time and he'd guess they'd just have 
to do it again sometime when he awake so he could enjoy the show.

The Mayor, the City Council , and other lady mobiles of the town came 
over quite a bit also, bringing cool sweet tea, chocolate cookies and 
many other things that the sheriff, the deputies and the rest of the 
riders really seemed to enjoy. They would put these things on my surface 
and everyone would sit around me and talk and laugh happily, glad the 
Sheriff and young Rider Simmons was getting well again..

For you see, that is my purpose. I am a table. I am a rectangular four-
foot wide by eight-foot long, golden oak table with lots of grain, a leg 
on each corner, and a good deep rubbing of tong oil. I was created by a 
New England Craftsman, purchased in the early 1850's by a German family, 
and brought out here to the my home in Tok'ra Flats. I sat in a dusty, 
dark, empty office for a long lonely time. Now, though there is a new 
Sheriff and deputies in town and I am always in use for one thing or 
another. I can seat eight formally, ten comfortably, and twelve friendly. 
I can support a wounded hero, sustain a weary spirit and bear a heavy 
load during difficult times. Because I lost my chairs on that day long 
ago, there are often benches at my sides and many different kinds of 
objects on my surface. My life is now one of utilitarianism not formal 
dining. In other words, I'll see a lot of service of all kinds.


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: A Good Deal
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G

WARNINGS: None

CATEGORY: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Series 

PAIRING: None

SUMMARY: The Mayor and Daniel make a deal with some pilgrims. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

Mayor Debi stepped out of the Emerald City Saloon with a broom in her 
hand and looked up and down the street. It was a beautiful spring 
morning, and the Mesquite trees were in full greenery. She could hear 
Siler and his boys over at the blacksmith shop already hard at work in 
the forge before the day's heat got too uncomfortable to work the fire.

Looking down the main street towards the edge of town, she could see the 
kids playing outside of the schoolhouse; it must be morning recess time. 
Miz Babs was sitting on the porch and keeping an eye on them. The big 
freight wagon was sitting unhitched under the trees till the end of the 
school day. Then, one of the riders would hitch up the team and take the 
Anasazi students back out to the Mission, dropping off a few of the farm 
kids along the way.

Glancing the other way, she could see Sheriff O'Neill's rocking chair 
sitting empty on the porch, moving slightly in the morning breeze. He 
must be out gallivanting around checking on things at the outskirts of 
town. The man seemed to be everywhere at the same time, either on foot or 
on his rangy Appaloosa. He appeared to be a friendly, easygoing sort 
always ready with a joke or a compliment. At first, when she'd met him, 
she and the then Mayor Angel had thought him relaxed and easygoing. But 
from later experiences with the outlaw Gould Brothers, the town had seen 
the steely eyed, uncompromising core of the man. He would brook no 
nonsense in his town or with the people that were his responsibility.

And when his deputy and best friend, Daniel, had been wounded, their 
unrelenting defender had shown himself quite capable of taking care of 
any unsavory business that needed handling, whether it was an arrest or a 
killing. After that little incident, no one doubted his abilities, or his 
qualifications for the job. 

Speaking of Daniel, she'd not seen much of the deputy recently. He always 
came to dinner on time, and if she needed a helping handle, the young man 
would appear as if by magic. But something had been bothering him for 
several weeks now. It pained her to see him that way -- someone that good 
should be happy -- but he wasn't. And she was pretty sure she knew the 
reason behind it. She's heard about a sad incident over at the Tok'ra 
Journal's Office involving Daniel, and he'd been mourning another loss in 
his life, that of a pet.

As she stood there thinking, Debi saw the shape of a Conestoga wagon 
coming down the street As it grew near she could see a young couple up on 
the box, the slender man handling the team of worn out mules and a tired, 
frail looking woman holding a small baby in her lap. As they pulled up to 
the saloon front, the husband reined in the pair of weary animals and 
tipped his dusty hat to her.

"Ma'm, can I ask the name of this town?"

"Surely, this is Tok'ra Flats." She replied in a friendly manner. "Can I 
offer you some cool water for you, and your Missus, and your team? They 
look about done in."

"Yes Ma'm that would be wonderful." He looked at his small family. "I 
don't have much to pay..."

"Mister, nobody pays for water in this town. You and your Missus climb on 
down. I don't charge for what the good Lord gives us free. My name is 
Debi, I'm the Mayor hereabouts and I run the saloon."

The young man looked at her with a little more hope. "Thank you, Ma'm, 
for your kindness. My name is Bob Tolle, and this is my wife Margie and 
our little boy, Robbie." He clumsily climbed down from the box seat. As 
the young woman moved to descend to the street, Debi went over to the 
other side of the wagon to help her. She appeared to be exhausted. 

"Hand me your young 'un." She offered. "That way you can get down easy 
without fear of dropping the liddle tyke." The woman numbly did as 
requested, but as soon as the older woman took the child, she realized 
that the baby was burning up with fever. "Bless me, Ma'm, but this boy is 
sick." She remarked. "You need to take him over to Doc Fraiser's and get 
him seen to.

"I know," the thin young woman said as she took the babe back from the 
woman. "But we have no money to pay a doctor..."

"Look a here, you two." The Mayor spoke firmly. "First off, Ma'm, we got 
us a fine doctor just down the street, and if Doc Janet knew that I let 
you get away from here with an ailing child, she'd be right peeved at me. 
Secondly, you look like you're plumb tuckered out yer-own-self. There's a 
nice hotel with a bath house out back, and believe you me nothing feels 
so good as a hot bath after days on the trail. If Miz Deb even thinks 
about charging, you jest say it's on my tab...but she won't." Debi knew 
the new hotel owner in town now fairly well and she doubted the woman 
would begrudge the young couple a place to stay with the sick child.

The Mayor finally convinced the woman to take the baby to Doc Fraiser's 
Also at her instructions, the husband unhitched the mules leaving the 
wagon under some shade trees and took the team around back to water them. 
While she was sweeping the porch and waiting for his return, she heard 
some suspicious noises coming from within the wagon. Debi went over and 
peeked under the canvas that covered its interior and smiled to herself, 
a plan forming. 

When Mister Tolle finally came back around the building, the elusive 
deputy Daniel was with him and the mules were not.

"Hello, Deputy." She called to him. Daniel looked at her in surprise. She 
never called him deputy.

"Mayor," he responded shyly. "I told Mister Tolle to put his mules in the 
corral out back, and I pitched them some hay."

"Thank you, Daniel," she smiled at him and he grinned back. She turned to 
the newcomer. "I serve dinner from 6 PM on. I'll expect you and your 
Missus. The deputy here can vouch for our cooking here at the Emerald 
City."

"Ma'm, I told you I can't pay..."

Debi looked at him and smiled. "How 'bout something to barter with?"

"Barter?" He looked at her in confusion.

"Sure." Nodding towards the wagon and shrugged. "It's traditional around 
these parts, and you do have something of value."

"I do?" He seemed confused. "What?'

"Well," she smiled over at Daniel. "First, though, I'll need some help, 
if the deputy will lend me a hand."

Now, it was Daniel's turn to look puzzled. "My help for what?"

She turned to Tolle, raised a finger and pointed towards the wagon. "You 
have kittens."

The young man looked at her in confusion then nodded. "Danged cat was 
pregnant. I couldn't tell or I'd have left her, but Margie wanted to 
bring her with us."

"Well, I figured one of you was attached to momma." Debi glanced over at 
the now attentive Daniel. "That's why I need your help. From the look of 
them kittens they're a mite too small to be weaned already."

"Yes, they're only five and a half weeks old."

"So," she continued. "I'll need a substitute momma. I can't have them 
around the saloon, my dog is a terrier, a natural born killer, but the 
town only has ten or twelve cats and most of them are wilder than March 
hares. With all the new businesses coming to down, five new cats will be 
as welcome as rain in August around here." Debi looked at Daniel 
hopefully. "What do you say, Daniel, can you foster them for a month or 
two, wean them, civilize them, and help me relocate them to their new 
homes?"

"Sure," he replied eagerly, "kittens are easy to raise." Daniel thought a 
moment. "I guess it'll be all right with Jack." He got a sly look on his 
face. "I have been seeing rats in the cell area."

"Oh, well, of course you'd get the pick of the litter as your payment, 
that is if Mister Tolle will strike me a deal here."

Tolle was looking at her in abject confusion. "What kind of a deal?"

"Well, I figger that with five kittens, well, let's see they'd be worth, 
um, let's see...two meals at the Emerald City Saloon...supper and 
breakfast..., one night at the Boarding House, two trips to the bath 
house, one doctor bill for a sick baby, and one night boarding for two 
mules in the corral including two feeds of corn and hay and all the water 
they can drink." The woman ticked off the payments on her fingers and 
watched the man trying to determine if she was joking with him or not. 

Debi looked back towards the sheriff's office. O'Neill was leaning up 
against one of the poles that supported the porch's overhanging roof. He 
had a grin on his face, and he was shaking his head at her 'business 
sense'. When he saw that he'd been noticed, O'Neill started ambling over 
to where the Mayor and the newcomer were talking turkey.

As the Sheriff approached, the saloon keeper continued on. "Of course, 
I'll owe the deputy here one for raising up and taming them down, but I 
think my profit margin will cover that expense." She looked at the young 
man who was staring at her as if she were a mad woman. "So, Pilgrim, we 
got a deal?"

"Uh, well... "

"All right, Mister Tolle, you drive a hard bargain...tell you what, I'll 
throw in a picnic lunch for you when you all decide to move on 
tomorrow...that is if you really want to leave Tok'ra Flats...we've 
always got room for one more family here." She glanced at Jack. "This is 
our town sheriff, Jack O'Neill."

O'Neill nodded, and shook the man's hand. "Nice to meet you. It's a nice 
town here," he commented. "A good place to bring up a family." 

Tolle looked at the lawman, obviously impressed. "Bob, uh, Bob Tolle." 
Tolle stuttered, a bit overwhelmed. "It is certainly a very nice town," 
wondering if he was dreaming or not. Finally, he shook his head. "But 
well, we're headed for California. I've heard that there's gold to be 
found there. Lots of gold."

"Well, that's what they say, Bob." O'Neill nodded solemnly. "But they 
also say gold is where you find it. I'd say you've got your own little 
treasure mine right here in your wagon...and I don't mean your cats."

Jack's comment caught Tolle's attention. "I don't know what you mean?" He 
asked.

"Bob," Jack nodded towards the wagon that the young deputy was peering 
into, examining his new project. "You've got a pretty young wife and a 
handsome baby. I've seen a bunch of men with a whole lot less to lose, 
come through here and go nowhere. You're risking not only yourself, but 
both of them as well, on some wishful thinking about a gold strike. What 
did you do back east, Bob?"

Tolle looked a little embarrassed. "I was a gun smith."

"Really? A gun smith did you say?" O'Neill was impressed. "Well now, this 
town needs a good gun smith. Can you reload shot and bullets too?"

The young man shrugged. "Sure, part of the job really." He replied with a 
bit of pride at his training.

"I tell you what, Bob, you think on staying here in the Flats. I 
guarantee you could make a good living here with a skill like that. And 
it would be a whole lot less toil than out there in California digging in 
the rocks for some of that imaginary gold." The sheriff looked at him, 
considering. "I tell you, I got two weapons right now that need attention 
and another one I need some special ammunition made for." He glanced at 
the Mayor.

"There's that store front down the next block that's unoccupied right 
now." Debi thought out loud. "You could use that for as long as you stay. 
There's a little bit of rent that would go to the city treasury, but the 
first month is always up for bartering." She smiled at the sheriff. 
"Heck, I'd let you have the first month for free just for cleaning the 
place up."

He nodded back. "Yep, you could be a big help around here...and when you 
get your grubstake built up again, well California's been there for a 
long time, and I imagine it'll be there for a while yet."

Debi nodded. "And of course, there's your sick baby to be considered. It 
would be better for him to rest and not be bounced all over creation."

Bob Tolle looked overwhelmed. He glanced up the street where his wife had 
taken their son. Finally, he stuck his hand out to the Mayor. "Ma'm, I 
think I need to take you up on that kind offer of yours. You're both 
right. I been afraid that little Robbie wasn't getting any better, and 
well, if something was to happen to him...I, I just don't know what 
Margie and I would do."

"Mister Tolle," O'Neill said softly. "I think you're making a very wise 
decision. I didn't know about your sick child until just now, but I'm 
here to tell you...I lost a son some years back. And no matter what else 
happens to you in this old world, that is the absolute worst thing that a 
man can live through. So, now I'm telling you, staying here is the best 
possible thing you can do. Doctor Fraiser is one of the finest physicians 
I have ever met, if anyone can set him straight...she will." He nodded in 
affirmation. "And I can guarantee you at least a month's work. Later on, 
after you're settled, we can discuss some special orders for some of my 
deputies." He indicated the direction of the Doctor's Office. "You best 
go on up there and see about your boy. Your rig and mules will be fine 
right where they are."

Bob looked back and forth between the Mayor and the sheriff. "I...I think 
I will, thank you all for everything."

"Not a bit of it, Bob." Debi replied with a smile. "When you and the 
Missus come in for your supper tonight I'll have a key to that old 
storefront waiting for you."

The young man nodded. "Thank you again, and, well, I gotta go see about 
Margie and Robbie."

"You do that, Bob." Jack smiled at him. "You go on and tell Doc Fraiser 
to bill the Mayor here. She'll be paid in about oh, a month or two. I'll 
tell her the rest later."

As the young man hurried down the street, the mayor and the sheriff 
looked at each other. 

"Thank you, sheriff." Debi said, "I was afraid he was gonna drag that 
family of his over Teltac Pass."

"He doesn't know any better; that's his only defense." Jack shook his 
head.

"Well, I don't think the Apache would take that into consideration, and 
they're right over that pass, just a waiting for some innocent like him 
to come along."

"The Comancheros didn't either. Old Wise Eagle just couldn't understand 
what in the world the Jackson's were doing out there all by their 
lonesome. It's dangerous enough to travel in a wagon train. They sure 
don't need to be wandering around by themselves." He nodded and looked 
over at the young man peering into the wagon. "Just what in the world did 
you get Daniel into, by the way?"

The Mayor just smiled, "Kittens."

"Kittens?"

She nodded, still smiling. "Kittens."

He scowled at her suspiciously. "What do you mean, exactly, when you say 
kittens?"

"I bartered with Tolle for them, Daniel's gonna raise them for me till I 
can pass them out to their new owners."

"But the Tolle's are gonna stay here now."

"Yep."

"Then why can't the mother cat raise them?"

"Well, I guess she can." the Mayor nodded agreeably. "It would be nice if 
you offered to keep the momma and the kittens in the Sheriff's office, 
just till the Tolle's got moved into their place of course. By then, 
she'll have weaned them herself."

"Then why does Daniel need to do it?" He dragged the question out 
curiously. "Why don't you just keep them in the Saloon?"

" 'Cause my dog would kill them." She responded logically. "You know 
that."

"Oh." He frowned. "Right. Thanks."

The Mayor smiled, kissed him on the cheek, spun around, looked coyly over 
her shoulder and said, "You're welcome."

The sheriff shook his head, turned to look at his deputy still over by 
the wagon, and yelled. "Daniel!"

Daniel turned around with his arms full of kittens and a happy grin on 
his handsome face. "Yes, Jack?"

"Oh," Jack just sighed and shook his head. "Never mind."

a kittenish finish


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: Young Daniel
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G 

WARNINGS: minor character death, minor language, violence 

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Challenge, Drama, 
Hurt/Comfort, Series 

PAIRING: none 

SUMMARY: A response to the challenge, what's wrong with Deputy Daniel and 
what is the cause of his flashbacks in the schoolyard. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Bases on occurrences as outlined in A View from the 
Schoolyard and The Table in the Schoolyard written by Babs. Aided and a-
beta'd by CelticAngel, and Devra. All Cherokee words taken from 
http://wehali.com/tsalagi/index.cfm? All German words from 
http://dict.leo.org/? 


                         *******************

Prologue

Jack O'Neill was sitting in his rocking chair on the porch of the Tok'ra 
Flats Sheriff's Office. It was an early summer's morning. A slight breeze 
wafted its way down the street from the direction of the Rio de Nada. He 
could almost smell the fresh pinesap from new the Lumber Mill that had 
gone up right after their arrival. Imagine, a lumber mill being run by a 
woman. O'Neill had to admit that he'd had a lot of surprises since he'd 
come to this quiet little western town out here in the Indian Territory. 

He reached for his cup of coffee that sat on the small checkerboard top 
table next to his chair. As he took a sip of the warm liquid, a buckboard 
and some riders coming down the town's main street caught his attention. 
As was his habit, Jack rose from his seat and sauntered out into the 
street to greet the newcomers. 

Except some of these were some very familiar faces that he was seeing, 
and they belonged to some old friends indeed. 

The men riding into town were Texas Rangers. The two on horseback were 
young and Jack didn't recognize them. The two men in the buckboard, 
however, bore a remarkable resemblance to each other. They were both fair 
of skin, with graying blond hair and piercing blue eyes. They were men 
that Jack had known for years. In fact, the older one was the very man 
that had recruited him long ago, Mike Burell. The other man was Mike's 
younger brother, Joe. 

"Well, I'll be damned," the sheriff greeted the old man with an 
outstretched hand. "Mike Burell, what the devil are you doing way out 
here?" 

"Well, I'll be damned," the sheriff greeted the old man with an 
outstretched hand. "Wrong-way Mike Burell, what the devil are you doing 
way out here?" 

The older man clambered out of the buckboard with the limber movements of 
a much younger man. "Jack O'Neill, you are a sight for sore eyes, hombre. 
That's for certain." The two men embraced warmly. "You remember my 
brother Joe, don't you?" 

"How ya doing, Jack?" The younger version of Mike smiled down at his old 
friend from the wagon's seat. 

"Of course I do. I'm doing just fine, Joe. Climb on down offa that box 
and make yourself to home." Jack greeted the younger man with almost as 
much enthusiasm. 

One of the outriders came up and took the lead line to the team, to allow 
the three friends some visiting time. Jack directed the men around back 
of the office to the corral, where they could water the team and saddle 
horses. 

"So, tell me, what are you doing so far away from San Antonio anyways?" 
Jack asked curiously. "Nothing's wrong is it?" 

"Well, Jack," Joe spoke up. "I've got some letters and dispatches for 
Commander Hammond, and Mike here, well; he's retired so he just came 
along for the ride." 

Jack smiled at his two old friends. "Well, Judge Hammond's office is 
three doors down, and he should be there this time of day. Why don't you 
go ahead and take care of your business, and I'll take Mike here over to 
the Saloon and stand him to a drink. When you get through, come on over 
and join us." 

"That sounds like a plan to me." Joe declared with a smile. "I'll be 
there in an hour or so." He smiled at the two men. "Don't you two go 
getting into any trouble now, ya hear?" 

"He's safe with me, Joe...I am the sheriff here, ya know?" 

"I'd heard that, you old sidewinder." Joe smiled at O'Neill. "Now," he 
intoned seriously. "Now, I am worried." 

Jack laughed and clapped the older man on the shoulder. "Come on with me 
Mike; let me introduce you to our Mayor and Saloonkeeper, Miz Debi." 

As the two men entered The Emerald City saloon they were deep in 
discussion of old times and new news. The went up to the deserted bar 
area and Jack called out. "Louigi, Miz Debi, anybody around here?" 

Debi, the saloon owner, came out of the kitchen area that served the 
establishment's restaurant. She was pushing some loose strands of hair 
out of her face and dusting flour off of her apron. "Right here, Sheriff. 
What can I get for you?" 

"Your pretty self, of course." Jack smiled affably at the woman. 

She just smiled and shook her head at him. "That blarney and two bits 
will get you a cold beer, Jack O'Neill." She slipped easily behind the 
bar and pulled two mugs out of the icebox behind the bar. "Lager?" 

"Please, ma'm." Jack nodded. "And I'd like to introduce you to Mike 
Burell, an old and dear friend of mine from the Texas Rangers." 

As the woman reached across the bar to shake his hand, she looked closely 
at the older man. "Are you related to the Castroville Burells?" 

"Jah, I am." Mike looked up at her taking in her graying blond hair and 
blue eyes. "How do you know of them?" 

"I'm related to them," Debi commented happily. "I'm Katrina Burell's 
daughter. She married Sedan Brieten from Quihi." 

"Oh, jah. She is mein cousin. My vater's schwester." 

"Jah, we are Grocousine." Debi remarked happily. She glanced at Jack. 
"Second cousins. Doesn't that just beat all!" 

"It certainly is a small world." Mike agreed. "But what are you doing way 
out here, running a saloon? And der Burgermeister too!." 

"It's a long story, Mike. A very long, boring story." 

The saloon doors swung open to admit Samantha and Teal'c. They were both 
dusty and sweaty from the trail. The Sheriff turned to greet them. "There 
you are, where's Daniel?" 

"He stayed behind to help the Priest your brother." Teal'c intoned in his 
deep voice. 

Sam came up and thankfully accepted an icy mug of cool water from Debi. 
"He said he wanted to finish the fence so the little goats couldn't get 
out again. Padre Joe said he'd been having trouble with them escaping, 
and he was afraid the coyotes would get them." 

"It takes a coyote to stop a coyote." Jack said with a grin. "Daniel will 
get it done, sure enough." He then indicated the young woman and large 
black man. "Mike these are two of my deputies, Samantha Carter and 
Teal'c. The third and missing one is Daniel Jackson. You'll meet him 
around suppertime, I'm sure. He seldom misses the evening meal." 

Mike looked at him curiously. "Did you say Daniel Jackson?" 

"Yes, why?" O'Neill raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

"A tall slender boy with blond hair, very fair skin, and eyes the color 
of bluebonnets?" 

"Well, yes, you could say that...though his hair is darker now than it 
was when he was a teenager." The sheriff sat his mug down and looked 
frankly at the old Ranger. "Why, is there a problem?" 

"Oh, no. No problem at all." Mike looked at Jack seriously. "His Indian 
name is Wa-ya A-yu-le. (Coyote Child)." 

"No, not any more." Jack looked at him curiously, then he continued. "His 
name is now Ga-ta-na-i Wa-ya. (Wise Coyote). 

"I'm not surprised." Ranger Burell said softly. "I knew he would be a 
wise man. He had all the markings even when I knew him."

Sam looked at the two older men curiously. "I'm sorry, what are you two 
talking about? Our Daniel?" 

Mike smiled at her. "Jah, I knew him a long time ago, when he was only a 
small boy." 

The Sheriff shook his head in disbelief. "Are you saying that you knew 
him as a child with the Cherokee?" 

"No, Jack. I'm saying, I'm the one who gave him to the Cherokee." 

                         *******************

Texas Plains 1848 

Mike Burell, Texas Ranger out of San Antonio, topped the crest of the 
hill on his good Mustang and stopped to let the animal catch its breath. 
The red roan pony was still rough broke by some standards, but the spirit 
and endurance of his breed made him a much desired mount by the Texas 
Ranger's opinion. 

Mike had been sent to escort a group of Oklahoma Cherokee safely back to 
their homelands. There had been a lot of Comanche and Comanchero activity 
in the new nation of Texas since it had won its independence from Mexico 
and a lot of the ranchers weren't too picky about what kind of Indians 
they were shooting at. Old Sam Houston wanted his friends taken care of 
while they were down from the Cherokee Indian Territory hunting Buffalo 
to help get them through the winter. So the Ranger had been assigned to 
go with them and help out whenever he could. It was an easy task. Mike 
honestly liked the members of this hunting party and they were a pleasure 
to be around. Many of them were as civilized and educated as some of the 
whites in the area, if not more so. 

The leader of the party rode up beside the Ranger and stopped his paint 
pony beside his friend's mount. Where Mike was wearing the generic Anglo 
costume of the state; sombrero, a fringed buckskin coat over a long 
sleeved calico shirt, canvas trousers and boots, the Cherokee was wearing 
his native costume of the traditional turban, buckskin shirt, woolen 
pants and moccasins. The two men had become close as brothers in the 
short time they had known each other. "What do you see, Da-lo-ni-ge Gi-
tlu (Yellow Hair)?" 

Mike leaned back in the saddle and strained his eyes to make out more 
detail, "I don't know A-Ga-ta-na-i We-ha-li (Wise Eagle), but it doesn't 
look too good." The Texas Ranger shook his head and pointed down into the 
valley. "Looks like some pilgrims got waylaid down there." 

He could see what appeared to be a burned out wagon and objects littering 
the flat prairie floor. Some of the shapes looked to be bodies, a mule 
carcass and some human remains. 

We-ha-li nodded sadly. "I see it too." He looked at his friend. "We must 
go down." 

"Jah, we must be sure of what happened and I should try to find out who 
they were." Mike kneed his mount down the slope towards the site of the 
wreck and We-ha-li followed after calling to two more of his hunters to 
follow them. 

When the group arrived at the tragic scene, the signs were easy to read. 
A lone wagon, pulled by a four-in-hand of mules had been traveling in a 
westerly direction. One of the lead mules was lying dead in its traces 
obviously shot to keep the wagon from moving. The other three were gone, 
no doubt stolen. The bodies of a young couple, a dark haired man and a 
blonde woman were lying where they fell. A half-grown hound was also shot 
dead. Their belongings had been strewn across the ground from their 
wagon. Clothing, chairs, a small table, and several trunks and valises. 
These containers had all been broken open and the contents tossed aside 
as if the attackers were searching for valuables. 

The men dismounted and walked through the area, looking for clues as to 
who had committed the atrocity. They noticed all the guns were gone and 
could see the boot prints of the villains who had committed the crime and 
shod hoof prints of their horses. There were only a few moccasin prints 
and barefoot pony prints intermingled. We-ha-li looked at Mike and shook 
his head sadly. 

Mike nodded grimly. "This isn't Indian sign," he commented. 

"No, my friend," the Indian pointed to the arrows sticking out of the 
wagon and some of the furniture. "But whoever did this wanted us to 
believe it was." 

"Comancheros, up from Mexico," the Ranger agreed. "And there may have 
been a few Comanches with them, but I'm betting this was no war party. 
I'm thinking it was murder, rape, and stealing that caused this." 

One of the Cherokee men came over to where the two friends were standing. 
"We-ha-li, ni. A-ya a-go-wa-dv hiya." (Eagle, look. I see this.) The man 
was carrying a small rag doll in the shape of a bear and he handed it to 
his leader. We-hi-li and Mike looked from the toy to each other, then 
began scanning the area for other, smaller footprints. 

The Cherokee leader called to his men, "A-ha-ni, e a-yu-le!" (Look, a 
child!) The four men began to search in earnest, to look in and around 
the area for any sign of a small body. Finally, one of the men called 
out, and they could clearly see the small barefoot tracks of a youngster 
as he had scuttled from out of the wagon and fled into a rocky 
outcropping. 

"Ach, der poor kinder." (Oh, the poor child) Mike said sadly in his 
mother tongue. He knew what the child had probably witnessed. It was a 
terrible thing for a child to see his parents die. 

Suddenly one of the young men who had climbed up into the rocky area 
called out. "A-ha-ni, a-ha-ni!" 

As the others climbed up to where the young man was, they could see him 
crouching down at a small rock overhang. He reached in with his hand, 
then he called out in pain and looked at the others nursing his injured 
hand as they approached his position. 

"What is it?" Mike asked. 

"A young yo-na (bear), I think." The man replied examining his hand for 
injury. "I reached for the boy and he bit me." 

"He is afraid of you, Tsu-la. (Fox). We-ha-li replied. "He only sees 
another Indian like those who killed his parents." He looked back at the 
Ranger. "Come, Da-lo-ni-ge Gi-tlu, speak to the boy-child." 

Mike stepped up to the small cave-like hole in the rocks and peered 
inside. There, all the way to the back wall, sat a small, blond, blue-
eyed boy crouched up into as small a ball as he could make himself. 
"Hello, little one." He called out to the child in English. "What are you 
doing in there?" No answer came. "My name is Ranger Burell. Can you come 
out from there or are you hurt?" The boy made no response. Mike, noting 
the blondness of the child tried his own language. 

"Gr dich, kinder, Kommen Sie bitte hierher. Sprechen ze deutch?" (Hello 
child. Come here? Do you speak German?) Finally, the small boy moved. He 
raised his head and looked at the Ranger. Mike spoke again. "Wie geht es 
dir, junge? (Are you all right, little boy?)" The child didn't speak, but 
he did look up at Mike with huge blue eyes. 

Finally, the Ranger crouched down at the cave's mouth and reached out, 
holding both arms open to him. The small, blond waif crept forward into 
his arms like a frightened puppy. As Mike pulled the boy into a hug and 
out into the sunlight, he could see the dried, red blood covering the 
boy's arms and face. At first he thought the child was injured, but a 
quick look convinced him that the caked on blood must belong to the 
parents. Mike lifted him in his arms like he would do his own children. 
"Armer junge. Mein armer kinder." (poor boy, my poor child.) 

Due to the boy's condition, the hunting party decided to camp there in 
the valley for the night. They moved a little distance away from the 
burned out wagon, and a small party of the men left the camp to go and 
bury the dead parents' bodies. The boy had adamantly refused to leave 
Mike's arms, after he had given himself up to him. He held the boy 
quietly in his arms until the camp was made. Then, he carried the boy to 
the fire. As they sat there, Mike warmed some water in a cooking pot and 
began to wash the dried, caked blood off of him. The Ranger moved slowly 
and gently so as to not frighten the boy. The child only sat and watched 
as the man washed his face with gentle hands. Finally, he pulled the 
boy's bloodied clothingt off and put his fringed, buckskin jacket around 
the thin, pale body. He leaned back and looked at his handiwork. The 
little one had skin as fair as any German child would, with cotton blond 
hair and eyes the color of bluebonnets. 

Mike tried speaking to the boy again. "What is your name?" The boy looked 
at him but didn't speak. "Wie heien Sie?" Finally, in Spanish, "Cual es 
su nombre?" The boy only looked at him and didn't answer. He would only 
bury his face in the Ranger's buckskin coat and peek out to watch his 
every movement.

Mike had the advantage of being from and having a large family of his 
own. He had five children and had helped his own mother with his ten 
brothers and sisters and his wife Anna to care for his own five children 
when they were frightened, sick or injured. This little blond boy could 
easily have been his own child. He knew the boy had seen the death of his 
parents at the hands of the outlaws, and that he was probably still in 
shock. A child with a weak mind would probably never recover from the 
horrible experience. But this boy, though not speaking, still showed 
alertness and intelligence. 

His friend We-ha-li came and sat next to them. "How is the child?" 

"He seems unhurt in his body, but we shall see if his mind is harmed." 

The Cherokee nodded. "It is a terrible thing for one so young to see." 
The warrior looked into the child's eyes who studied his moves 
suspiciously. "He has the eyes of a young Wa-ya, a co-yo-te. He is not 
afraid, but only untrusting." The Cherokee looked over at his friend. 
"Will you take him home with you?" 

"I wish I could, my friend." The Ranger shook his head regretfully. "But 
after I go with you, then I must go on to Fort Worth on Ranger business. 
I cannot take him. The trip is too long and dangerous for him." 

"Then he can stay with us, if he will." We-ha-li watched the child for a 
reaction. "When you are through with your task, then come back. If you 
can take the boy, that will be good. Or he can live with us." We-ha-li 
and Mike are speaking in English, right? 

"Are you sure? He may not be right, after all." Mike spoke with concern 
for the child. 

"My clan is that of the longhairs, the stranger clan. We are the ones who 
adopt the new ones into the tribe. We can teach him our ways, and he may 
live among us." The Indian assured his friend. 

Later that evening after the men had returned from their sad task one of 
the older men, Gi-ga-ge Ta-wa-di (Red Hawk), came over to where the 
Ranger was sitting with the now sleeping child half on his lap. He was 
holding a bible in his hands. "We brought some of the boxes back with us. 
We found some of his clothing and many books." He handed Mike the bible. 
"Here is their holy book. It is written in English." 

Mike shifted the sleeping child to lie completely on his bedroll so that 
he could open the bible. He noticed that it was a King James version, not 
the Catholic one. The boy curled up next to him and buried his face back 
into the fringed jacket where it lay next to him. 

The Ranger opened it and read the handwritten script. "Melbourne Daniel 
Jackson and Claire Alexandria Ballard, married on January 10th, year of 
our lord 1839 in Amsterdam, Holland. Daniel Alexander Jackson, born July 
8th, year of our lord 1840 in Abydos, Egypt." He looked over at the 
sleeping cherub. "So little Daniel Jackson, I think you have come a long 
way to be here with us tonight."

We-ha-li had been watching and listening. "What does it mean to you, Da-
lo-ni-ge Gi-tlu?" 

"It says, my friend, that our little coyote cub was born in an ancient 
land very far away from Texas. That there is more mystery here than we 
can know." He closed the book, and looked again at the fair skin and 
delicate features. "His mother was Dutch, and his father was probably 
Scotch-Irish. They lived in the biblical land of Egypt for some time 
where the boy was born in a very ancient city." Mike Burell shook his 
head in wonder. "But why would they come here?" 

"To come so far, and to die so easy," Gi-ga-ge Ta-wa-di commented sadly. 
"I have seen the other books. There are pictures of men in them who wear 
turbans like the Cherokee men do. Perhaps that is why his is not so 
afraid of us, now that he has seen us." 

We-ha-li nodded in agreement. "The mules, wagon, and their possessions 
all speak of wealth. The books speak of knowledge and the child of their 
love." He spoke softly. "These were good people. We must do right by 
their child so that he may know them. We must take the books for him so 
that he may know his clan's legacy. 

Several days later the hunting party arrived at the village of Tishamingo 
in Oklahoma. The people came out to greet them happily and to divide the 
meat. This allow them to finish it's curing to preserve it for the long 
winter. Daniel, as Mike now called him, hid behind the Ranger and watched 
everything. He had not spoken since he had been found. 

We-ha-li called a council for early the next day to discuss the boy, for 
adoption and to ensure his proper placement with a good family within the 
clan. Owl Woman had tried to take him from Ranger Burell, but he still 
clung to his rescuer. Daniel, though shy, watched all the activity with 
his bright eyes, taking in all the people, their actions, and their 
colorful dress. 

After all the duties and responsibilities of caring for the meat was 
finished, the evening meal was prepared. Village life continued on with 
the adults working, and the children of the tribe running and playing 
happily. But the little white boy stayed close to his friend, holding 
fast to the hem of the leather jacket. 

The Ranger knew that he couldn't stay much longer with the tribe, and he 
had to make the boy understand about his imminent departure. After the 
evening meal, Mike brought the boy to his camp at the outskirts of the 
village. As they settled around the fire, he took the boy in his arms 
again to speak seriously to him. "Daniel, we must speak of what will 
happen tomorrow." 

The child's eyes locked on his and they reminded him again of his own 
children at home in the west Texas town of Castroville. It was verdammit 
hard. "Daniel, listen to me. Tomorrow, I will have to leave here...and I 
cannot take you with me as much as I'd like to." He paused. "I have to go 
to Fort Worth for three months, then on to Amarillo before I can go home 
to mein frau un mein own kinder. It is too far and too hard a journey for 
you to make with me." 

Daniel stared at him, tears filling his eyes. "Now, now junge. We-ha-li 
said you might stay here. Here you'll be safe. The tribal council will 
find you a new family tomorrow. I know they will not be your father and 
mother. No one can ever replace them for you, but the new people will 
take care of you, keep you safe from harm and they will love you very 
much." He reached and stroked the boy's damp cheeks, brushing away the 
tears that were falling. "These are good people. They love their 
children, and they will take good care of you." He kissed the boy on the 
forehead. "I will come to visit you every year, and that way we will 
always know that we are both good. All right?" No response. "I will stay 
until it is all settled, and I know who you will be staying with." 

The boy reached for his protector and wrapped his arms around Mike's 
neck. "I will miss you too, Daniel. I wish I could take you. Mama will be 
unhappy with me for not bringing you. But I am worried that the trip 
would be too hard on you." He looked down at the boy's blue eyes. He was 
too young, his parents had been too foolish, and they were dead now. Mike 
could not risk the boy's life after der Gutt Gott had kept him safe so 
far 

Finally, the little child curled up next to Mike in his bedroll and, 
holding tight to the Ranger, he fell asleep. 

The next morning, the sound of singing woke the two in their camp. The 
women's morning song was echoing throughout the camp, greeting the sun, 
celebrating the success of the hunters and cheering the people to awaken. 

Wi na de-ya ho, wi na de-ya ho, 
Wi na de-ya ho, wi na de-ya ho,
Ho ho, ho ho.
He ya ho, he ya ho,
Ya ya ya. 

Mike looked down at the boy who was curled up against him. "Is it not 
beautiful? The women sing to the earth and sky. They ask that they weave 
for them a garment of brightness so that they? may walk fittingly where 
the birds sing." 

The boy looked at him in wonder. "You too may learn their language and 
their ways, young Daniel. Perhaps one day you may help our two peoples 
understand each other so that nothing bad or evil can ever happen again." 
He kissed the boy in the bright blond hair. "What do you think of that, 
der junge?" 

Daniel only looked up at him with wide eyes. 

Mike smiled down at the boy. "Well, let's go and get some breakfast, Jah? 
I am hungry." 

After a breakfast of cornbread and honey, the man and boy were greeted by 
We-ha-li. "Good morning, friends." The leader nodded to them as he sat 
down next to Daniel. The boy didn't flinch or shrink from him. He nodded, 
pleased that the boy showed no fear of him. 

"What did the council say?" Mike was nervous enough to ask the question 
right out without waiting for the polite pleasantries to be completed. 

His friend understood and took no offense from it. "The boy has been 
accepted. He is a bright child, and I am sure the loss of his voice is 
only temporary due to the shock. We know he speaks several tongues 
already, so it should be easy for him to learn our language." 

"What of a family for him?" 

"There were several petitioners for him." We-ha-li nodded to him. The 
guardians we selected are A-tsi Sv-ti (Fire Maker) and Tsi-quo-quo (Robin 
bird). We believe it will be easier for him to live with them at first. 
Sv-ti's father was white and his mother Cherokee." 

"So, he's only part Cherokee?" 

The tribal leader laughed at his friend's confusion. "Part? What part 
would that be, my friend? His nose? No, he was born into our clan and is 
a Cherokee in all ways." He looked down at little Daniel and smiled "As 
we hope the wa-ya a-yu-le (coyote child) will be also." 

Daniel looked from one man to the other with a thoughtful expression on 
his face. Then he nodded solemnly. Mike felt his eyes prickle with tears 
but he smiled down at the child and nodded also. 

Several hours later, Mike had his red-roan Mustang saddled and ready for 
the trail. He was carrying a good amount of dried jerky, flat bread and 
dried fruit with him to ease his trip. Little Daniel had stayed with him, 
watching his every move. But now, the time had come for parting. 

Daniel's new family had come by earlier and met their new son. The couple 
was in their late twenties and had a son similar in age to Daniel. The 
two boys had met solemnly and seemed to be all right with each other, 
though it would be a learning time for them all. The family had returned 
to the village to allow the two some private time together before their 
farewells. 

Mike Burell knelt down by the boy who had become so important to him in 
such a short time. "Very well, young Daniel. You will be all right, Jah?" 

The boy nodded, but raised a hand to brush away his tears. 

"I'll come back in five or six months to see if you're all right." The 
Ranger promised. "If you are still unhappy, I will take you with me...but 
I think that this will not be so." He looked over the boy's head into the 
village. "I think you will be happy here." 

The boy did not respond, only watched his friend and benefactor mount his 
horse. The family who had been selected for his new life came forward 
when they saw the man begin to leave. They surrounded the boy, the young 
woman putting her hands on Daniel's shoulders, the young man standing 
beside him, their son on his other side. 

As Mike rode off he turned in the saddle and waved to the boy who had 
touched his life. Daniel Jackson waved goodbye to Ranger Burell. 

                         *******************

Epilogue

"So, did you ever go back?" Samantha asked the old Ranger. 

"Oh, jah. I went back about seven months later to check on him." Mike 
looked at her. "He was doing very well. He had started to talk again and 
was confusing everyone. His foster father was part French and he had been 
speaking in that language when Daniel suddenly started talking to him in 
that tongue. Then, once he started, it all came like a flood. It seems 
our Daniel already spoke English, Deutch, French, and Spanish. He had 
been hearing Cherokee for those several months already, and he started 
speaking that also. He also had some other language that no one could 
name. We decided it was probably one from his childhood, maybe from 
Egypt." Mike smiled at his memories. "He would get excited, start 
talking, and the words would all tumble together and then no one could 
understand him." 

Jack laughed with the older man. "That still happens occasionally. The 
damnedest things come out all mixed up." 

"I hope I get to see him." Mike said hopefully. "It's been a long time, 
since before I retired. He might not remember me." 

"Oh, he'll remember you, never you worry Mike." O'Neill assured him. 
"Daniel never forgets anybody, just what time to be at places, and 
occasionally to eat and sleep." The group of friends laughed at O'Neill's 
statement of fact about their young friend. 

After a little while, the two deputies took their leave. Sam headed to 
the boarding house to get freshened up after her long ride, and Teal'c 
went to the Riders' bunkhouse to do the same. They agreed to meet back at 
the Emerald City for supper when Daniel returned from his work at the 
Mission. 

Miz Debi drew both the men another beer and excused herself to get back 
to her chores in the kitchen, leaving the sheriff and the retired Texas 
Ranger alone in the saloon. Jack and Mike went over and made themselves 
comfortable at a table. 

As they sat down, Jack looked over at the older man. "Mike, I gotta ask 
you something." 

"Jah, what is it?" 

"I've known Daniel a good number of years, and I know a bit about him." 
Mike nodded his encouragement to the younger man. "We've traveled the 
same trails for awhile now, but I've seen something that I don't quite 
understand and it's...well, it's kinda scaring me." 

"What do you mean?" Mike looked at Jack curiously. 

"Well, I will say that Daniel is not the coolest customer I've ever 
known. He feels things deep, doesn't ever hold himself back. When he's 
your friend, he'll give you his heartbeat. When he hates someone or 
something, he hates them to his soul." Jack watched the older man nod. 

"Twice now, he's been with the kids over at the school house, helping the 
teacher there, when something has happened. He's kind of...gone into a, a 
trance. He takes care of whatever happens, gets the kids safe and all, 
but then he just...goes away." Jack fiddled with his beer mug. "I've see 
men do it before, but never this bad."

The old man nodded and took a drink from his beer. "I saw him do that 
once too, Jack. Do you know what starts it? Is there something special 
that he sees or hears?" 

Jack nodded, "It's blood on his hands, Mike. Once one of the kids was 
picking on another and the teacher said that after he broke them up, 
Daniel got the child's blood on his hands. The other time, well, it 
wasn't blood but it was red paint." Jack picked up his beer and took a 
deep drink. "But that time was worse, Mike. He was seeing things, and 
hearing things that weren't there." 

"Well, Jack, it could be from his parents. When we found him and pulled 
him out of that hidey hole he was covered with their blood. Poor little 
mite, I had to throw away everything that he was wearing and wrap him in 
my old buckskin coat till the boys found his clothes in the wagon." Mike 
smiled to himself. "He always liked the smell of tanned leather after 
that. I guess it just made him feel safe. He'd just curl right up on it 
and go to sleep. "

Jack smiled, "Yeah, I've noticed his fondness for buckskin." 

"Or it could be something else all together." The old man mused, staring 
down into the half empty mug of beer. "One of the problems with the 
damned civil war was that it caused a lot of useless, senseless deaths 
all over this country." He glanced up at Jack's confused expression. "You 
boys left to go back east to fight the war. Those of us who didn't go, we 
had our reasons. I had a wife and nine kids by then. I couldn't go. I'm a 
Texican first and foremost. If it would have come to me, I woulda 
fought...for my home and my family. But it didn't. It did come to 
Oklahoma, and it was bad. Old John Ross was a union man. Stand Watie was 
a Reb, and they split the clans, the tribe and the territory. Daniel was 
a young man by then and his people were divided. I'm sure he was 
involved. But I never heard how. 

Jack looked at the Ranger in dismay. "I thought he was safe at home. I 
didn't even realize..." 

"Not many people do. Mostly it was Indian against Indian, with a little 
help from their white friends and their tribal leaders. Daniel's people 
were followers of John Ross, he was a unionist." The old Ranger could 
only look towards O'Neill. "I don't know what he was involved in, 
but...there's lots it could have been." He reached a hand out and laid it 
over Jack's hand closest to him. "Why don't you ask him? He'll tell you 
before anyone else." The two men sat awhile in silence, Jack lost in his 
own memories of the war.

Then they heard the telltale sound of hoof beats outside the saloon door. 

Jack indicated the front door. "That's probably him now, Mike. I'll go 
see." 

O'Neill stepped over to the door and met the young man who was just 
entering the building. "Where the hell have you been?" Jack thundered in 
his best put upon voice. "Lollygagging on the trail, avoiding people and 
work like that."

Mike Burell could hear Daniel's protestation of innocence. "But Jack, I 
was helping fix the fences out at the mission. The goat kids are getting 
out all over the place and..." 

Jack stepped back out of his path and Daniel could see the man standing 
at the bar. " Wie geht, Daniel. How are you?" 

"Ranger Mike..." Daniel face blossomed into one of his blinding smiles. 
"What are you doing here?" 

"I have come to see mein junge, what else would I travel so far for?" 

Daniel approached the old man. "I can't believe you're here." 

Mike opened his arms and hugged the younger man, pulling him close. "And 
why not? I have come to see you as often as I could for many years." He 
pulled back to look at his friend. "You have grown so...tall. You look 
well, Daniel." 

"I am good, Mike." Daniel smiled and put his arm around the old man's 
shoulder. "I am in a good place, with friends around me." He grinned over 
at O'Neill who smiled warmly back at the younger man. "Even if some of 
them do get a little loud once in a while." 

"So it seems." Mike looked back and forth between the two friends. "But 
come now, lets sit and talk. I want to hear all about your adventures 
here in this town of Tok'ra Flats." 


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: The Sheriff Saves The Day
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: G

WARNINGS: None

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Series 

PAIRING: none 

SUMMARY: The Sheriff Of Tok'rs Flats goes out and has an adventure 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

Sheriff O'Neill sauntered out into the warm fall morning sunshine. He was 
restless. He supposed it was because the first cold front had swept 
through the mountains, turning some of the trees' leaves from their tired 
dusty summer green to their fall colors of red, orange and yellow. Or 
maybe he'd just been in town too long, recovering from a chest wound he'd 
received two months ago. Or maybe because Hawk, his blue roan Appaloosa, 
had been looking down the road, ears pricked and standing ready to 
travel. 

Jack knew the big horse had been feeling neglected recently. Oh, he'd not 
missed a meal or a grooming thanks to Daniel or Cassie. In fact, he 
looked as if he'd gained about a hundred pounds standing lazily in the 
shade during the hot sweltering months of July and August. But he knew 
Hawk missed their long rides and the wide vistas as much as he did.

O'Neill felt something rub against his legs and he reached down to pick 
up Gato, the Jail cat. The little gray kitten that Daniel had been given 
had grown into a fine young tom. He noticed a new scratch on the cat's 
nose. "Out looking for a girl, huh, Gato? Or did you already find one?"

The tom purred out his answer and rubbed his head against the calloused 
hand that was rubbing his ears. "Yep, I know, weather's changing and 
everybody's antsy." He deposited the cat back on the weathered wooden 
planks with a final pat. "Well, try to stay out of trouble." he 
admonished the cat as he stepped off into the dusty street of Tok'ra 
Flats.

Walking around the Sheriff's Office, he could hear Samantha's voice as 
she asked Teal'c to move the table so she could clean back in the corner. 
The two of them had descended on his sanctorum earlier that morning with 
broom, mop, bucket and soap. He'd lasted about thirty minutes before 
fleeing their well-meaning efforts on his behalf and heading out to the 
corral.

Hawk, his Appaloosa, was over under the shade tree next to Feather, 
Daniel's overo paint pony. The two were standing some distance away from 
the other horses, up and under the shade trees. At his whistle, the roan 
broke away from his companion and trotted to the rail fence that 
surrounded the small pasture. The horse nuzzled his hand, seeking the 
peppermint candy that he knew O'Neill would have in his pocket for him.

Giving up the minty treat, the Sheriff scratched the horse's broad chest, 
earning grunts of satisfaction for his efforts. "So, fellow, you want to 
go stretch your legs?" The horse nodded his head, whether it was an 
answer to his question or a response to his continued scratching, Jack 
didn't know for sure. But when he turned to head towards the barn, Hawk 
followed.

                         *******************

After they cleared the edge of town at a dignified walk, Jack loosed the 
reins and the big gray swung out with his long extended trot. After a 
mile or so warm up, the rider lightly touched Hawk's sides with his heels 
and they eased into an easy lope. Much to his master's delight, the big 
App stretched out into a fast hand-gallop that lasted for another couple 
of miles.

When the big horse finally settled down back to his ground-eating trot, 
Jack was surprised to see just how far they had traveled. They were quite 
a distance from the town and well up into the foothills. He didn't recall 
ever being this far out this direction before, so O'Neill decided since 
he had already come this distance, he'd do a little sight seeing while he 
was here.

After an hour or so, when they had both cooled down from their fun, Jack 
heard what sounded like the sound of a waterfall. Hawk snorted and 
pricked his ears, obviously smelling what his master was hearing. The 
horse and rider spied a narrow path leading from the roadway and followed 
it down to the source of the sound and smell of water. They made their 
way down the steep path and found a gurgling, splashing creek to greet 
them, sparkling in the sun as it fell down a low precipice at the bottom 
of the hill. Jack dropped his reins and allowed his now relaxed mount to 
wade out into the knee-deep pool that had formed at the end of the 
cascade. The horse dropped his head and took several deep swallows of the 
cold refreshing liquid as his rider kicked his feet out of the stirrups 
and just sat back admiring nature's beauty.

After a few minutes, the big horse pawed the water, showering both him 
and his rider with the cold liquid. Then the horse shook himself like a 
big dog much to his rider's chagrin and headed for the bank of the creek. 
There he started to crop the water rich grasses that grew along the 
water's edge. 

Jack laughed out loud and swatted his horse on the neck, fussing at his 
unrepentant mount for shaking him up so thoroughly. He then slung his 
long leg over the saddle horn to ease his leg into a more comfortable 
position and pulled the sandwich he'd brought with him out of his 
saddlebag. Taking the canteen off his saddle's leather tie strings, he 
had a bite to eat and a drink of water for himself. When they had both 
slaked their appetites and rested a spell, O'Neill picked up the reins 
and urged Hawk up out of the water and started down the trail that ran 
along side the little watercourse.

They followed the trail for about a mile, turning a corner into a narrow 
dirt road that ran along the watercourse. An unoccupied buckboard with an 
old dun mule harnessed to it sat on the trail. Jack saw a man walking 
down towards the creek carrying a burlap bag in his hand. The bag was 
moving. 

When the man saw the sheriff coming down the trail towards him, he 
stopped and looked at him in an embarrassed sort of way.

As O'Neill approached the hombre, he recognized him as someone he had 
seen a few times in town. The man was Hank Dawson, a farmer in the 
outlying area some miles north of Tok'ra Flats. The man ploughed a couple 
of acres for corn and ran a few head of cattle and goats on his place. 
Hank was a poor man but proud of having his own place and being self 
sufficient with his little family out there in the narrow valleys of the 
Tok'ra Mountains. O'Neill shifted in the saddle and Hawk stopped 
obediently. "Hello, Mister Dawson."

The man nodded back to his greeting. "Howdy, Sheriff. You're a long way 
from town."

"Yes, I guess I am." Jack nodded, "I just came out to exercise ole Hawk 
here and we came a bit farther than I expected." He looked at the man 
curiously. "What do ya have in the sack?

"Well," the man shifted uneasily, "I'm ashamed to say, Sheriff."

"Oh really?" His curiosity piqued, Jack pressed the issue.

"Yes sir, I'm ashamed to say, but I'm a-drowning a pup."

"A pup?" Jack couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"Yes sir, a pup." The man shifted from one foot to the other. "Ya see 
Sheriff, I wanted another litter from my old cow dog and well, I took her 
over to Mister Ryan's to match her with his good collie dog. Well, bless 
Pat, the very next night she got out on me and I heard her go a-running 
off with an ole lobo that'd been hanging around." The man looked 
unhappily at the bag. "Well sir, she come back all chewed up and bloody 
and I was hoping that was the end of it." He frowned in unhappiness. 
"Turned out I was wrong. When she whelped, I got three yaller collies, a 
black and tan cowdog and this grizzly gray looking thing. Then when they 
commenced to open their eyes, well, his were as yaller as cats' eyes." 
Dawson shook his head sadly. "He's a wolf dog, sure as shootin'. I run 
cows and goats, Sheriff. I cain't have no half-wild thing on the farm."

O'Neill frowned down the man, thinking quickly. The man caught his 
disapproving look and flushed red under his eyes. 

"Look Mister Dawson...I been thinking about getting a pup." O'Neill got 
down off his horse and reached into his jean pocket. "I'd like to buy him 
off of you if you've a mind to sell him." He pulled out the coin in his 
pocket; it was a silver dollar. He glanced at the farmer. "I didn't bring 
much money with me, I was just out on a lark, but I'll offer you a dollar 
for the tyke."

Dawson looked at him disbelievingly. "Now, Sheriff, I cain't rightly take 
your money for a pup I was gonna drowned." He shook his head,"but I'd be 
glad to give him to you." 

O'Neill nodded, but had seen the farmer eying the coin as it glinted in 
his hand. From experience, he knew how much the money would mean to this 
hard scrabble farmer. "Well, I tell you what, Mister Dawson." He tried to 
look thoughtful. "Since I'm just out here on horseback, I don't have no 
ways to get the little fellow back to town unless I buy that tow sack off 
of you, and I know you weren't planning on leaving it behind. So," he 
paused for emphasis, "I have to buy that sack off of you. Now, I only 
have this here silver dollar, so I guess you'll have to take it in 
payment for your good burlap bag." He paused. "If you need any more for 
it, well, I guess you'll have to loan it to me, 'til you get to town so I 
can give you the rest."

Both Dawson and O'Neill were well aware that the silver dollar would buy 
ten sacks, but both men understood the unspoken agreement. It gave Dawson 
an easy out to get rid of the pup non-fatally and it gave O'Neill full 
claim to both the animal and the bag.

"Well, sir, I guess I kin spare to let the bag go fer that and to seal 
the deal, next time in town I'll stand ya to a beer at the saloon."

"That'll be just fine, Mister Dawson. I'm much obliged." The two men 
shook hands and the Sheriff turned and swung back up on his horse. Dawson 
handed up the sack to him and waved as O'Neill turned his horse and 
started back down the path that followed the little stream. He then 
climbed back up into his buckboard, slapped the reins on the old dun 
mule's back and drove off towards home.

As soon as O'Neill got out of sight of the farmer, he draped the reins 
across his horse's withers and opened the sack up, carefully folding the 
edges down to reveal its contents. "Well, Hawk, since it seems I've 
bought us a pup in a poke, let's just see what we've got for our money."

The Sheriff gingerly reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of soft 
neck fur. Using the other hand to peel the burlap back, he uncovered a 
sharp pointy nose, small triangular flaps for ears and a small body 
covered with a brownish gray pelt. The little mite hung by the nape of 
his neck, eyes tightly closed against the here-to-fore cruel world. 

O'Neill examined the little boy dog with a practiced eye, then tucked him 
close to his chest. "Well, now, little fellow, " he said softly. "Let's 
get a look at you, what say?" The pup, feeling more secure in the warm 
haven of Jack's cuddling arms, opened his eyes and studied the human 
curiously. The eyes were indeed the color of old Spanish doubloons 
glinting in the sun. 

"Well, pup, that ole farmer had you pegged all right," the Sheriff mused 
aloud. "From the look of those eyes, I'd say your papa's running with a 
pack somewhere up in the high lonesome mountains." He stroked the downy 
muzzle with his fingers. The pup licked his hand then tried to suck on 
his trigger finger. Jack chuckled softly, "Yep, I bettcha you and Danny 
will hit it off just about right."

He shifted the small body to his left arm and finagled the canteen up, 
managing to unscrew the top and soak the corner of his shirt. He 
presented it to the pup, who proceeded to suck the wetness out of the 
cotton material. After several minutes of constantly refreshing the 
moisture source the little one finally seemed to have slaked his thirst. 
The two regarded each other for a few more seconds, then the pup yawned 
broadly and blinked sleepily up at his new benefactor. Jack tucked his 
shirttail back into his jeans making sure it was secure. He then opened 
the top four buttons of the shirt and tucked the little furry body safely 
in next to his ribs. The little body squirmed around a bit until he'd 
reached a comfortable position and then settled down for a nap. Jack then 
stuffed the offending burlap bag down in his saddlebag, picked up the 
reins and started Hawk back towards town at a slow soft amble.

                         *******************

Late that afternoon, Sheriff O'Neill and his Appaloosa pony, Hawk, ambled 
into the quiet streets of Tok'ra Flats. As he rode past the 
Veterinarian's office, a familiar voice called his name. He shifted his 
weight in the saddle and the horse stopped his walk.

"Jack! Jack, are you all right?" Daniel stepped off the porch and hurried 
to his friend's side. He became concerned when the sheriff didn't 
immediately dismount to greet him. Jack looked down at his younger friend 
and smiled mysteriously.

"Why yes, Danny. I'm just fine. How are you?"

When the older man didn't get off his horse right away, Daniel looked at 
him with mounting worry. "You've been gone all day, we were getting 
worried. What's wrong?" Jack looked somberly down at his friend's 
concerned expression.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I'm a little tuckered out. Hawk took me for 
a long fast ride and we went a bit farther out than I had planned. Then I 
met a fellow and talked a while. Well, before I knew it, I had this funny 
thing happen to me. This here lump kinda appeared on my ole ribs and I 
found I had to take it easy on the way back into town so's I wouldn't go 
jarring it too much." He smiled at Daniel's now very worried expression. 
"But I thought you wouldn't mind helping me out, you know, to help me 
take care of it."

"Of course not, Jack." Daniel exclaimed. "Come on and get down so I can 
see what's wrong with you."

Jack was looking very somber now, and he was holding on to his left 
ribcage where there indeed appeared to be a large lump. In fact, the lump 
appeared to be moving on its own now. Jack carefully opened up his shirt 
and reached in with his right hand. He made a grimace and pulled 
something out of his shirt and handed it to his young friend. "Here, it's 
getting kinda heavy...you take it for me."

The young man had extended his hands initially to help Jack down from the 
saddle, but he wound up taking a very sleepy little wolf cub out of 
Jack's grasp and holding it gently in his own two hands. "Jack, 
it's...it's a puppy."

Jack smiled at Daniel's amazement. "Yes, Daniel. A very lucky little pup, 
I might add. A farmer was gonna drown the little fellow cause his mama 
got mixed up with an ole lobo and produced an unacceptable offspring in 
her prize litter. But since I have a fondness for half-wild things 
anyways, I thought I'd give him a chance at a decent life."

Daniel looked up at him with a grin. "Well, you do seem to have a way 
with taming things that start out on the wrong foot. But this little wa-
ya u-we-tsi (wolf son) is very young." Jack nodded, "I know, about three 
weeks I think." He swung off Hawk and rubbed the pup's ears as Daniel 
held him. Hawk swiveled his ears at the small creature, reached over with 
his nose and sniffed the little pup.

The younger man was gently examining his new project, "He'll need milk 
and a warm bed soon, Jack. How long has he been away from his mama?"

"Since early this morning I'm thinking." The Sheriff said sadly. "He, an 
old tow sack and a big rock were just about to take a final swim when I 
found him and his ex-owner." At Daniel's surprised and shocked look, Jack 
patted his friend on the shoulder. "But I knew that once I got him back 
here, that he'd be all right."

The two men turned and started towards the Saloon where they made their 
home. "I'll have to get some milk and biscuits from Miz Debi," Daniel was 
already planning his strategy for the health and well being of his new 
charge. 

"I'm sure he'll do just fine, Danny," the Sheriff agreed, putting his 
hand on the younger man's shoulder chuckling. Hawk, feeling satisfied, 
snorted softly shook his mane and followed the two men down the street.

the end


                         *******************

Tales Of Tok'ra Flats: Daniel's Civil War
By Debi C - dcole6@satx.rr.com 


RATING: R

WARNINGS: adult themes, minor character death, violence 

CATEGORY: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, 
Hurt/Comfort, Series 

PAIRING: None

TIME FRAME: What has gone before: The View From the Schoolyard, Journey 
from Andersonville, Young Daniel, The Sheriff saves the Day and so on and 
so forth. 

SUMMARY: In Tok'ra Flats, The Riders finally find out why Daniel keeps 
having his 'spells'. 

DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of 
Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko 
Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only 
and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is 
intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property 
of the author(s). 


                         *******************

Chapter 1 The Long Journey

Sheriff O'Neill and Ranger Burell entered the cool dark recesses of the 
Emerald City saloon. Jack and Mike had done the morning rounds together, 
enjoying the cool morning breezes, the walk and the companionship. The 
sheriff's half grown pup had followed them in their steps and he had 
gamboled and played the entire time. The two men had reminisced about 
adventures they had shared and told about those they hadn't.

One of the main subjects that had been discussed was their mutual friend, 
Daniel Jackson. They had both played important roles in the young man's 
existence, affecting the direction of his life's path. Mike Burell had 
helped save the boy's life years ago, by giving him up to the Cherokees 
to raise after he had been found close to his murdered parents.

Jack O'Neill had found him living with the Indians and reintroduced him 
to his white heritage. This had led the young man to travel west to the 
small frontier town of Tok'ra Flats with his friend where they lived now.

Entering the dancehall portion of the saloon, they found the object of 
their discussion sitting at a large round card table. Daniel was deeply 
engrossed in a large leather bound book. Their friend, the saloon owner, 
had presented him with the tome as a birthday gift, and he had been 
fascinated with the volume ever since.

The two men went over to the large pot-bellied stove by the wall and 
helped themselves to the ever-present coffeepot that sat there warming 
itself on the iron surface. Then a quick step to the sidebar revealed 
some sugar iced cinnamon rolls, biscuits and molasses. The men helped 
themselves to the snack and joined their young compadre. Dollar trotted 
over to where the younger man was sitting and flopped down under the 
table.

"Whatchadoin Daniel?" Sheriff O'Neill pulled out the chair next to the 
young man and sat down. The retired Texas Ranger did the same. 

Daniel looked up at his friends with a smile. "I'm reading this book that 
Miz Debi gave me."

"What's the book about, Jun'ge?" Mike asked over his coffee cup

"Well," Daniel carefully put a strip of cloth between the pages and 
closed it so his could show them the cover. "It's about studying ancient 
Egypt, learning bout the culture and how it affects our civilization." He 
turned it so they could see the title. Jack gently took the book that had 
fascinated his friend and carefully examined it. Mike read the title from 
across the table. "The Land Of The Pharaohs by Melbourne Jackson." He 
looked up in surprise at Daniel. "That's the name in your bible."

"Yes, it is." The young man nodded eagerly. "I think it may be my father 
who wrote this book. Look." He leaned over closer to Jack and opened the 
cover to the frontispiece. After the flyleaf, introduction and table of 
content pages, there was a reproduction of a tintype of a young family. A 
handsome dark-haired man and an attractive blonde woman were in a formal 
pose, the man sitting in a high back Victorian chair and the woman 
standing at his side. In the man's lap sat a boy-child of about three 
years of age. The photograph had captured their faces and expressions 
perfectly. Arching eyebrows, round cheeks and dimples were quite evident 
in the toddler's face and were a perfect match for the man sitting next 
to them.

"Yah, Daniel, that is you." Mike commented confidently. "Not much to 
doubt about there."

Jack looked at the picture critically, "Cute kid. What happened?" he 
commented teasingly.

Mike looked at his friend. "He grew up to be a handsome man, and you know 
that well, Jack O'Neill."

Daniel ducked his head and blushed. The men laughed warmly as his 
embarrassed reaction. "Yep, probably wouldn't have to ask much of a dowry 
for him at that." Jack commented as he sipped his coffee.

The younger man scowled at his fondly smiling tormentor. "A dowry is for 
young ladies...even I, an uneducated heathen know that." He stood, 
picking up the book to take it with him. "If you're only going to pick on 
me, I'll go over to the mission and offer my linguistic skills to the 
other O'Neill and see if he's any more appreciative of my help. 
Meanwhile, I'll take my book back upstairs to get it out of a little bit 
of harms way." He reached down and scratched the little dog behind his 
ears.

Dollar, the gray pup, looked up from one master to the other with his 
wolfish yellow eyes and then yawned prodigiously with a little whine. 
He'd had a good bit of exercise this morning and he was too tired to care 
if they were fussing or not. He just wanted to find a nice warm patch of 
sunshine and take his morning beauty nap.

O'Neill nodded. "Yeah, Joe had mentioned something about a new village 
settling several miles away from the mission. I know he wants to make 
contact with him, but he doesn't know their lingo." He looked at his 
friend, "You gonna go over and try to palaver with them?"

"Yes, I need to see if it's any language I know, and if not...well, I'll 
guess I'll just have to learn another one." As he turned to head up the 
stairs, he called back to the two lawmen. "Oh, I may take Cassie with me. 
She's been wanting to go exploring and brown pony needs a little light 
exercise.'

The sheriff nodded. Cassie Fraiser had mentioned a desire to go for a 
ride but that her ma, Doc Fraiser, wouldn't allow her to go off by 
herself. But Janet knew her teenaged young lady would be safe with her 
friend and the faithful old Indian pony.

"Then, you'd better be back early this afternoon. Doc will send the 
hounds out after you if you keep that girl out too late." He smiled to 
take the sting out of his words.

The Deputy nodded in agreement. "We'll be back before the long shadows 
fall." Then he turned and trotted up the stairs with his precious book.

                         *******************

Sheriff Jack O'Neill was worried. It was now nigh on to six o'clock and 
there was still no sign of his Deputy Daniel Jackson and Cassie Fraiser. 
They had left early this morning going to on a visit to Mission San 
Patricio and the two young people were now several hours late. Doc 
Fraiser had already come looking for her daughter earlier and he'd had to 
report that the pair hadn't been seen since then.

Normally, Jack wouldn't have been concerned, even after the protective 
mama's visit. Daniel was an experienced frontiersman and knew how to 
handle just about any emergency. But Danny, himself, had promised to be 
back by late afternoon. It was now rapidly turning into dusk. So, Jack 
had determined to ride out to meet them, just to ease everyone's minds... 
particularly his own. O'Neill had saddled his blue roan appaloosa, Hawk, 
and was letting the big horse set his own pace of a long striding, ground 
eating trot. 

He arrived at the mission just at sundown. The older Indian children who 
lived at the mission were just closing the mesquite pole gates to the 
compound as he rode up. At their enthusiastic greeting, Father Joe 
O'Neill came out of the sanctuary to greet his kinsman. "Hola, Jacko. To 
what do we owe this rare honor of your presence?"

"Howdy to you too, Joe. I'm looking for my pair of lost lambs." He swung 
off the big horse and grasped the hand his brother the priest offered to 
him. "Have you seen Daniel and Cassie Fraiser?"

Joe looked at his older brother in surprise. "Why, yes. But it's been 
several hours ago." He developed an identical frown as the one Jack was 
wearing. "He was trying to help me understand the tribal headman from our 
new neighbors that set up their village just a few miles from here. They 
had finally started to make some communication headway, when a runner 
came in from the camp. Daniel and Cassie decided to go back with them to 
learn more about them. But that was oh, three o'clock this afternoon." He 
shook his head in realization of how late it was. 

"How far away is this village, Joe?"

"Oh, at least several miles back up along the river." The priest looked 
at his brother in concern. "Why don't you stay the night here and get an 
early start of it?"

Jack shook his head, not at all pleased with this new information. "No, 
thanks Joe. I think I'll head on out and try to find them before it gets 
too late." He looked at the other man curiously. "Just what kind of 
Indians are these anyway?"

"Well, Jack, as you know, I'm not too familiar with the various tribes 
from down here...but I think they are called Tonkawa."

Jack knew that name but couldn't put it with any knowledge right away. He 
frowned in concentration. Joe watched him in concern. 

"What's wrong with ya, Jacko? Ya look like a bee stung you."

"I'm trying to remember...there was a tribe along the gulf swamps called 
that but I don't know...there was something unusual about them." He shook 
his head, disparagingly. "I've never met any of them, though you say 
Daniel spoke some of their words?"

"Ay, that he did, but the boy speaks so many tongues...and he was using 
some Spanish in there also."

Jack nodded, "A lot of Texicans speak a bit of Spanish, both white and 
red." He glanced back at the gate that was waiting open for him. "You say 
they are up the river from here?" At the priest's nod, he swung back up 
onto Hawk's saddle. "I'll see if I can't find their camp before dark."

"Very well then, Jacko. I'll not try holding you here, as I know you're 
anxious to go." The two brothers shared a look and a handshake. Jack 
swung up on his horse and picked up the reins. The Appaloosa swung around 
on his haunches and headed out the gate at a fast trot. 

As he headed away from the mission, O'Neill heard the sound of unshod 
hooves following. It was Young Bull, one of the older Anasazi boys on a 
small strawberry roan mare. He shifted his weight in the saddle and Hawk 
slowed to a walk.

"Ho, O'Neill."

"Ho, Young Bull."

"I would come with you to search for my friend Dan-yell."

"Does your Padre approve?" Jack asked, he didn't want the young man to do 
anything against the mission rules."

"No, O'Neill, the Padre said I should go with you." The young man sat up 
straight on his mount. "I am a warrior now, and I can be of use in 
tracking my spirit's- friend."

O'Neill nodded. He couldn't refuse the youngster outright without the boy 
losing face and he very well could be helpful. "Come on then, we're 
burning daylight."

As they rode along the river, occasionally they could see the signs of 
passage of two other horses. Jack stopped and dismounted to stretch his 
lame knee. He looked at the youngster. "Do you know anything about these 
Indians Young Bull?"

The young brave looked at Jack seriously. "They were big people, O'Neill, 
tall and strong, as big as Dan-yell and with long bows. But they were not 
from these mountains. 

Jack had a niggling suspicion in the back of his mind. "What clothing did 
they wear? Hides, robes or cloth like the Cherokee?"

The young brave smiled as if to a joke, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" The sheriff looked surprised.

"Yes, the men only wore clouts and the two youngsters who traveled with 
their elders wore nothing at all." He shook his head. "Padre Joe says 
they must learn, or they will get cold this winter."

Jack nodded at the boy. "I should think so, Young Bull. And winter is 
coming on pretty quick here in these hills."

                         *******************

It was nearly sundown when Sheriff O'Neill and Young Bull rode slowly 
into the deserted village. The huts, such as they were appeared primitive 
by design; using small saplings bent over and tied together then woven 
with more branches. They would protect from sun and some rain, but 
certainly not the winter winds and snow. These people were foreign, alien 
to their surroundings, unused to the natural world they found themselves 
in. They would be needing help to survive the winter.

As the two men rode between the wickiups, they looked for signs of 
habitation. But there were none. No people, No horses, no dogs, not even 
a cooking fire smoldering. There were no birds singing or insects 
sounding in the brush either. It leant an eerie pall over the small 
village.

Jack looked around uneasily. There was definitely something very wrong 
here. He motioned Young Bull to stick close to him as they continued on 
into the center of camp. There was still no sign of life, but they were 
beginning to be aware of an unpleasant odor hanging over the camp. 

Then, when they reached the fire circle, they began to see bodies lying 
in the paths between the wickiups. O'Neill signaled Young Bull to stay on 
his pony, and slipped out of Hawk's saddle. He walked past the burned out 
fire pit, passing two dead men close to the circle and went over to the 
large central hut. There was an unpleasant odor already hanging near the 
hut. Gingerly, he pushed the openings cover. A swarm of flies buzzed 
around the dead body of a naked Indian woman. She was in a protective 
posture, lying over a small infant. She had obviously died trying to 
protect her baby. He glanced over at Young Bull. The boy's eyes were as 
big as saucers. Mission raised, the boy was as shocked as any youngster 
would be at such human carnage.

Jack let the cloth drop back into place. His heart was pounding and one 
thing kept running in circles through his head, like a cow on locoweed. 
'Where the hell were Daniel and Cassie.' 

Jack turned back to the young boy and handed him Hawk's reins. "Young 
Bull, take the horses over to the creek and water them. I need to poke 
around here a bit and see what happened." He looked at the boy's face. 
His dark brown skin tone had turned a waxy shade under its pigment. He 
figured the young man had probably never seen a man dead by violence 
before. Padre Joe didn't let much of that sort happen around his mission. 
He wanted to let the boy regain his composure so that he wouldn't be 
shamed in front of him.

Going back to the man closest to the fire, he rolled the body over. The 
brave was newly dead and didn't smell too bad yet. He had been shot by a 
rifle, killed with the white man's weapon, but who did it wasn't clear to 
the Sheriff.

Young Bull returned with the horses after a short period. The boy was now 
recovered from the shock and wearing his warrior's face. The two 
continued to search through the camp, looking for any survivors. As they 
rode in between the huts, more bodies were revealed to them. Some were in 
poses of fleeing, some in defensive positions with their primitive bows 
and lances. They found no one alive.

It was obvious that it had been a surprise attack. Alongside the people 
were carcasses of dogs and occasionally a horse. There was still no sign 
of Daniel or Cassie.

Jack and Young Bull also looked for indications of who the attackers 
might have been. There were hoof prints made by shod horses, indicating 
that it was probably white men. But why would anyone attack a peaceful 
village? Theses people had nothing of value, no gold or even many 
possessions. They appeared to be too primitive to be a danger to anyone.

As they continued through the village, Jack noticed there were very few 
bodies of children and none of the very young. There were a few 
adolescent boys with weapons who had probably been fighting with the 
warriors, but that was it.

Hawk suddenly raised his head and snorted, alerting his human. Jack 
immediately drew his pistol and waved Young Bull in closer behind him.

O'Neill's appaloosa nickered softly looking intently at a brushy thicket 
a few yards away. From within the area a dark horse's head appeared. Old 
Brown Pony limped out into view favoring his left hind leg.

O'Neill let Hawk trot over to his buddy and then dismounted to examine 
the old horse. As he stepped around to the Mustang's side, he could see a 
still oozing bullet wound in the animal's haunch.

"Well, Pony," Jack murmured as he stroked the brown neck. "Looks like 
Danny got you into a mess. Where's your running buddy, Feather?" He 
didn't see Daniel's paint horse anywhere around.

The old horse could only rub his head on the Sheriff's shoulder. Jack 
absent-mindedly pulled a peppermint candy out of his pocket. Brown Pony 
crunched it with a sigh. He looked back at Young Bull. "At least now, we 
know they were here."

The young Indian looked at him questioningly. The sheriff continued 
talking, thinking aloud. "We've got a village that's been attacked. 
Danny, Cassie and most of the kids are missing. Here's one horse wounded 
and missing another." He nodded at the animal, "Danny wouldn't just leave 
this old horse unless he had something else more important going on."

Young Bull rode his pony over and nodded in agreement. He knew his friend 
was a brave warrior and would fight to defend the helpless ones. "Dan-
yell would protect the girl and the young ones, if he could."

"I think so too." O'Neill said with a frown. "He had a rifle, a pistol 
and a knife. He would have put up a scrap."

"And when Dan-yell fights there are always bodies of his enemies."

Jack nodded in agreement. "Brown Pony came from this direction." He 
indicated the thicket, "We'll probably find more sign back there."

The two men followed the tracks of the wounded horse back through the 
scrub brush that ran along the banks of the Rio De Nada. There were signs 
of a running fight, spent cartridges, and even an empty gun lying on the 
trail. Marks of horses' hooves, some shod some not and bare human feet of 
various small sizes lead on into the scrub. Finally, they came upon a 
man's body. He was swarthy and dark haired, either Mexican or a half-
breed and wearing plain working gear. His pistol was missing from its 
holster. As O'Neill rolled him over, he could see the bullet hole in the 
top center of his chest, just under the throat. A killing shot, not meant 
to wound. The trail then narrowed to one of only a few feet wide, showing 
small bare feet and a pair of women's boots. They had to be Cassie's and 
what appeared to be children.

The sandy-loam dirt path led to the riverbank and went into the water. 
Jack swung back onto his horse's back and urged him into the shallow 
water. Young bull followed on his horse and Brown Pony trailed behind. As 
they rode through the river's deep cold water, they passed another man's 
body where it had washed up on the far bank. The battle had continued on 
here, a running fight here in the quiet creek. They could see signs in 
the torn up grass along the bank and the displaced rocks. There were 
still muddied areas and even a sapling had been torn up by its roots in 
one place. Jack was getting worried. He'd not seen direct sign of Daniel, 
though the bodies of the two attackers spoke of his protective presence 
over the children.

Leaving the riverbank, and down a draw, there was a suspicious torn up 
area that looked like some larger act of violence had occurred in the 
spot. There was Brown Pony's mechate saddle lying in the dirt with its 
girth cut, apparently by a sharp knife. But other than a small splash of 
blood and the disturbed earth, there was no other sign of what had 
happened. Jack dismounted, looking at the site carefully then back at 
Young Bull who had come up beside him. "This is where the horse was 
hurt," he nodded at Brown Pony, "He fell here, probably throwing Daniel." 

Young Bull nodded his agreement. "I have found the tracks of the 
children; they have gone into the brushy canyon. Maybe they hide there."

O'Neill nodded. "Show me." The youngster took him over a few yards where 
they saw tracks of a small group of fleeing victims. They had come out on 
the other side of the heavy brush. Their trail continued on up a slope 
and into a rocky out cropping that formed a stony, hilly area up above 
the water's main course.

There were some sizable boulders and crevasses in the jumbled rocks. As 
he rounded a steep bluff face of granite, Jack heard the sound of a 
pistol being cocked.

Pulling his own weapon out of its holster, and throwing himself down off 
the far side of his horse, he was relieved to hear a familiar female 
voice. "Sheriff Jack! Thank goodness...it's you!"

He put his gun away and came around Hawk to meet Cassie Fraiser as she 
flung herself headlong into his arms.

                         *******************

Chap 2 The Search

"Hey, there girl, you scared me out of a month of Sundays" He looked down 
at her tear-stained face. "Are you all right?" He asked as he relieved 
her of the pistol she was carrying in her hand.

She gladly gave the weapon up, then clung to him even harder. "It was 
horrible! I couldn't believe it. They were shooting everybody and for no 
reason!"

"Shush, sweetheart. Who was shooting them?" Jack hugged her back, then 
rubbed her back soothingly.

"Men, they looked Mexican but Daniel said Comancheros."

"Where's Daniel?" Jack asked anxiously. "Is he with the children?"

"No, the children are all back in the brush...Daniel was behind us, 
protecting us, but they killed brown pony...and I haven't seen Daniel..."

"Whoa, Cassie, slow down...Brown Pony's not dead, he's back there with 
Hawk. He's shot but he'll heal once I get the bullet out of him." he 
assured the upset young girl. "It'll take a lot more than one bullet in 
his butt to put that ole mustang under." He tilted her face up and wiped 
the tears from her cheeks. "Now where are these kids? We need to make 
camp for the night, it's nearly dark now."

Cassie finally turned the Sheriff loose and turned to lead them back into 
the boulder-strewn arroyo. "They're all in here, but Daniel told them to 
hide. I don't know if they'll come out with you here."

"And I won't blame them if they don't, but I'll build a fire and we'll 
put some grub on. Maybe they'll come to a bit of food." He looked back at 
the young Indian who had been standing quietly. "Go do me a perimeter 
search, Young Bull. I don't want to be surprised tonight; I want to be 
sure the yayhoo's that did this is gone from here." The youngster nodded 
and slipped off his mare; then he vanished into the underbrush.

Cassie watched him go. "He's just a boy. Will he be safe?" She looked 
much older than her fourteen years, worried as she was.

Jack smiled down at her. "He's the same age as Danny when we first took 
up together. He'll do fine. How about you? Are you hurt?"

Cassie shook her head negatively. "No, I'm not hurt." She assured him. 
"We all got away pretty quick. But," she added, "They would have killed 
us for sure if Daniel hadn't been there."

Jack nodded and hugged her close, and looked into the brush. Where was 
Daniel? But there were other more pressing needs for now. He'd search out 
his friend later.

Jack started a fire, and put some water on to boil in the old skillet 
that was part of his saddle pack. He added some frijole beans and then 
some of his dried jerky. Next he put water on for his coffee in the other 
pot. As the shadows melted into the moonlight, Young Bull returned to say 
that there was no one around and that the man had probably gone. Jack 
nodded and began to get the camp ready by the fire.

While Cassie watched the food cook and Young Bull gathered wood for the 
night fire, the Sheriff looked to the horses. He hobbled Hawk and the 
roan mare but left Pony loose. He knew that the old brown horse wouldn't 
go far without the other horses. He then washed the horse's wound out 
with boiled water and probed a bit for the bullet, but he stopped short 
of his getting kicked. Doc Janet or Doc Devra would have to do the 
digging. It was too deep in the big haunch muscle for his skill at 
doctoring.

Slowly, that evening, as the hour grew later and the night darker, a few 
of the children began to creep into camp. It was getting cool and the 
warmth of the fire and food drew them. They were mostly naked so Jack 
built the fire up for its heat. Cassie, using Jack's old tin cup, dipped 
out a small amount of the boiled beans and jerky for each child's meager 
supper. Then the little ones curled up with each other like puppies, 
seeking what warmth and security they could find in each other's 
presence.

The Sheriff made it a point to welcome each child with a smile and a soft 
word. As they began to settle down in their groups, Jack would liberate a 
saddle blanket from the tack pile and spread it over them. Cassie had 
settled down with the two littlest toddlers wrapped in her riding jacket. 
Jack shucked his fringed leather coat for her. As he looked down at the 
sleeping girl child he thought of Daniel.

It was a long night of Jack sitting guard over the sleeping children and 
welcoming the few stragglers that had shyly come in out of the dark. He'd 
done a few perimeter walks and returned to find one or two more had come 
in. A cup of the bean soup and a warm spot was offered and by early 
morning he counted 24 children, not counting Cassie, that he knew owed 
their lives to Daniel Jackson's quick thinking on their behalf.

The next morning, as the early light began to filter in through the 
mesquite trees, their horses snorted and began to look down the trail 
with pricked ears. Jack picked up his rifle from where he had propped it 
up against a log. Young Bull also picked up the pistol that Jack had 
taken from Cassie. After a few minutes more, he could hear men's voices. 
Then he recognized the deep baritone of Teal'c and the lighter tenor of 
Lou Ferretti. He relaxed his vigilance and walked up the trail to greet 
the men.

"Hey, Jack good to see you." Lou hollered at him. He looked around at the 
children who were looking suspiciously out of their various sleep-nests. 
"I gotta tell ya, you led us on a merry chase. Doc's a bit riled at you 
and Danny."

The Sheriff approached the riders and shook hands with them, as they got 
off their tired looking horses. "Don't take this the wrong way Lou, 
Teal'c, cause I'm surely glad to see you, but how did you know to come?"

"Well, big T here was fixing to come a-looking anyways when you didn't 
come back last night, but then Daniel's paint come a flying in at a dead 
run, stirrups a flapping and no bridle on. So we saddled right up and 
start to head up here to see what's a going on. Well, Doc, she sees us a 
leaving and bless Pat here she comes with that buckboard of hers. Cain't 
leave her go on her own sos we all come a hooting and a hollering into 
the Mission. Padre Joe, well he gets all het up, and saddles that ole 
plowing horse of his and, well, here we be." Lou looked around at the 
children, "What kind of Indians are these, Jack?"

"Tonkawa, Lou. I remember the name, but I don't know their particulars. 
Mike would know."

"Jack, I've heard of them too. There used to be a tribe in South Texas 
along the coast called the Tonkawas but I heard they all were killed 
off."

The Sheriff looked at him oddly. "Why on earth would someone do that?"

"They were cannibals, Jack. They ate people." Lou looked at him 
seriously. "Someone must have taken offense at it and decided they didn't 
need to be there anymore." He frowned, "I heard that what was left of 
them was moved to a reservation in Kansas before the war, but I'm not 
sure where."

Jack looked around at all the little ones peering up at them with fear 
still in their eyes. "Cannibals, huh. Funny, Lou, they just look like 
scared little kids to me."

Lou nodded, then turned around to the sound of more riders and a 
buckboard.

Doc Fraiser in her buckboard, Padre Joe, Samantha and several more riders 
came into view as they made their careful way up the narrow trail. As 
soon as she saw her mother, Cassie leaped up and ran into Janet's arms.

"Oh, Cassie honey! Are you hurt? Are you all right?" Janet hugged her 
wayward child tight then began to look at her carefully.

"Yes, Mama. I'm fine, Daniel saved me and as many of the children as he 
could. The elders told him to go, but he wouldn't leave the little ones." 
She took a breath and dashed the tears from her eyes. "And then the men 
came and started shooting everyone. Feather ran away and Daniel got up on 
Brown Pony and started to fight them back. He made me take the children 
and run up here into the brush to hide them. We could hear them shooting 
and hollering, and we crossed the river but they found us and they shot 
Pony and he fell and Daniel's gone and...." she burst into tears... "I 
don't know where Daniel is!"

Jack had been listening to her stream of information, the things she 
couldn't tell him last night because of her own fear and exhaustion. 
"Honey, Cassie, where did Daniel fall?"

"Oh, Sheriff, I should of told you last night...you could have found 
him...I'm so stupid..." She sniffed back her tears and pointed back down 
the trail. "He'd just crossed the river with us and the men came out of 
the woods again...that's when they shot Pony and he fell and Daniel told 
me to take the children and run. But he never came back to us, and I was 
trying to hide the little ones."

"Did any of the men come, after you saw Daniel stop?"

"No, he shot one in the river and another one on the bank. He was laying, 
hiding behind Pony...and I never saw him again."

Lou, Teal'c and Sam had come around to listen to the young girl's story 
of flight and terror. They knew now that Daniel was lying out in the 
brush somewhere, possibly hurt or dead. Jack hadn't seen his body, but 
Indian-trained as he was, Daniel would have gone to ground just like a 
badger to heal or die on his own.

Jack looked around the little circle of friends. "Well, Lou, you, Doc and 
Joe take Cassie and the other kids back to the mission. It's the only 
place for them now, the village was destroyed and I think all the adults 
are probably dead."

Lou nodded. "We'll use the buckboard and carry some of them double." He 
looked at his friend. "You're staying to look for Daniel?"

Jack nodded. "There's no telling what state he's in. He could be dead, 
hurt or...confused."

Lou looked grim. He'd seen Daniel in one of his episodes back in the 
town. They had never quite found out what had happened to the young man 
to cause the blackouts that Daniel would go into. They'd always assumed 
it had something to do with his wife's death, but Jack had never asked, 
and Daniel had held his own council.

The spells always seemed to start when Daniel was exposed to a large 
amount of fresh blood, whether he got some on himself or if someone he 
knew and cared about was bloody wounded. And it always seemed to be worse 
if it was a youngster hurt. During these periods, Daniel seemed to revert 
back to his Indian life, speaking only in the Cherokee tongue and 
defensively going for whatever weapon was close, usually a knife, or a 
gun.

Jack had seen something like it once before, in a survivor of an Indian 
attack. The man had been surprised by a holdup man, had gone berserk and 
killed his attacker in a fit of uncontrolled rage. Daniel was not that 
dangerous, thank goodness. He would only withdraw and defend himself and 
anyone with him from the perceived danger. He had never attacked anyone 
who stayed more than ten feet away from him, had never actually hurt 
anyone, but Jack knew the potential was there.

However, after being in a running gunfight where a large number of people 
had been killed before his very eyes, O'Neill had no way of knowing just 
how bad off and dangerous his young friend could be. And if he was 
injured, Jack knew the young man could very well be a danger to any 
unwary searcher. Jack knew that he was probably the only one who could 
successfully draw his friend out of his confusion.

Jack looked over at Teal'c and Sam. "I'm not going back until I find 
Daniel. You two want to stay and back me up."

Teal'c looked at his friend and nodded. "We would not leave without you 
and Danieljackson, O'Neill."

Sam frowned and agreed. "He may be hurt and you'll need help to tend 
him." She glanced at the wounded horse standing in the shade, "And Brown 
Pony, needs care too. We'll help Janet get the bullet out of him and then 
she and the Padre can take the kids back to the mission in the wagon."

Jack nodded, gratefully. "You do that, but watch Pony. He'll kick fire 
out of you when you go digging after that bullet."

Teal'c acknowledged the danger. "I will hold him and twist his ear if 
necessary. Then I will help you find Danieljackson."

Jack smiled gratefully. He didn't want to be anywhere near that fracas 
when they started doctoring the old horse. He couldn't afford to get hurt 
now with Daniel missing. He glanced over at Lou.

Ferretti was watching the priest as he was trying to talk to the 
children. Joe was getting the kids used to him and the idea of going back 
to the mission, not to mention riding in the buckboard. Lou left the 
Padre and came over to Jack. "Mike is gonna be mad he didn't come." Lou 
shook his head. "But the old man knew he'd hold us back. He said he'd 
take care of the office and Dollar for you."

"Yeah, Mike's already done his bit for God and Texas." Jack said scanning 
the hilly area that rose from his campsite. "Hopefully, I can find my 
other wolf and bring him in peaceable. We'll come in slow and easy, it 
may take a day or two to get back into town. Just get the children back 
safe for me."

"Don't worry about a thing, Jack." Lou said to his friend. "Just go find 
Daniel. He'll be needing you, I'm thinking."

                         *******************

It was late afternoon and Jack had been on the hunt now for several 
hours. The wagon had left, taking the children back to the mission late 
morning. Cassie, under protest, had gone with her mother and Young Bull, 
similarly, with Father Joe. Both youngsters had wanted to stay and help 
with the search. Jack had to explain to them that he couldn't look for 
Danny until he was sure that they were all safe. If something happened to 
them now, their friend's sacrifice would have been all for nothing. 
Finally, the Indian children were loaded up and the group had gotten off 
down the trail.

Sam had stayed in camp on the off chance that Daniel would come to them, 
though no one expected him too. The young woman was well armed with both 
pistol and rifle, in case any of the attackers decided to return. She 
would keep the campfire burning, and have medical help available when 
they found Daniel. Sam would also take Brown Pony in hand and Jack knew 
that she would take good care of his friend's old pet. Jack wanted to be 
sure the old horse got good care so that he would at least be able to 
live out a happy retirement. Miraculously the animal had only sustained 
the one major wound. Doc Janet had found and removed a second bullet from 
a second injury on top of his back that had miraculously missed the 
spine, possibly a spent ricocheted shot from off a rock while he was 
down. Both wounds had been cleaned and treated before the lady doctor had 
departed in her wagon. She had left her doctor's bag with Sam on the 
chance that Daniel too might have been wounded and needing medical care 
when they found him. When, not if.

Now, he had no other business other than to find his friend. Jack knew it 
wouldn't be an easy task, Daniel was as canny a woodsman as ever he had 
known. O'Neill figured that the young man would strike out for high 
ground, back in the area where he had Cassie take the children to hide. 
Other than trying to think like Daniel, Jack had no other sign of his 
whereabouts. But something kept him looking in the rocky brush area close 
to where he had found Cassie and the Indian children. Jack knew that n 
his worst state of mind, Daniel would try to protect them, even if he 
didn't rightly know who they were at that point.

Teal'c was also out searching, having gone down river in case Daniel had 
been killed in the fight and his body washed downstream. It was a 
sobering point, but one Jack knew had to be explored. Also, Teal'c would 
be the only other man that Jack thought could safely approach a wounded 
Daniel Jackson.

The last episode that he knew Daniel had was at the schoolhouse when one 
of the children had inadvertently knocked over a can of red paint onto 
Daniel and the ground. The young man had gone off into a memory of 
something that had happened to him in his past. Red blood on his hands 
moved him to a violent and panicked protectiveness for the kids that had 
been around him. That time Jack had managed to talk him back to reality 
by using his limited command of the Cherokee language. He wasn't sure 
what would have happened if he hadn't been there, but he was afraid of 
any outcome that would have arisen.

Jack was certain that Daniel hadn't been like this before the war. He 
remembered a happy youngster, deeply in love with his wife and very well 
settled in with his adoptive people. But all that had changed in the four 
years that he'd been gone back east. In their years apart, they had both 
see many things to drastically change his both of them.

His own experience had been at the hands of a known enemy. It was not a 
good thing, but it was one he understood. The POW camp at Andersonville 
had been a horrific nightmare to Jack. One that had almost cost him his 
own life and sanity. Jack had been captured by some Johnny-Rebs at the 
battle of Cedar Creek and he'd spent the last six months of the war 
wounded and sick at Andersonville prison in Georgia.

At the end, it had been Daniel that had come for him. When Jack hadn't 
return to his friend as he had promised, the young man had ridden over a 
thousand miles into a strange world that had made very little sense to 
the young man raised by the Cherokee. But Daniel had kept on looking 
until he found Jack, sick and dying in a prison hospital. Daniel had 
taken him out of the hell that O'Neill had fallen into, single handedly 
saving his very life and soul.

They had met Sam and Teal'c on that journey, the young woman opening her 
home to the strange, intense young man and his devastated charge. Teal'c, 
a freed slave who had remained to guard his old master's daughter had 
helped in his recovery and the four friends had formed a deep bond. One 
that Jack was counting on to help him now to find and rescue Daniel from 
whatever purgatory he was presently occupying.

O'Neill lifted his eyes and scanned the brushy arroyo that he had thought 
appeared promising. It offered a lot of cover for someone in hiding, yet 
a man could watch the surrounding area from any number of rocky perches. 
It was as good a spot to search as any, one that he knew would have drawn 
his friend as it had him.

The Sheriff had already been back to where Brown Pony had been shot and 
knocked down. He had read the signs that Daniel had indeed taken cover 
behind the old horse's body as Cassie had said. That the saddle's girth 
had been cut, freeing the animal from any constraints to his freedom, 
told him that his friend had been alive at that point.

Jack had searched the hard ground for any clue of the direction that his 
friend might have come this way. There were some indications of his 
passage; a broken twig, a bent blade of the desert grass, a rock out of 
place, but it was guesswork only. Daniel continued to wear his moccasins, 
refusing the heavier western boots. The soft footwear made tracking him 
that much harder. Jack made a promise to himself that he would have the 
young man a pair of custom boots made and then force him to wear them. 
Yeah, right, sure thing.

O'Neill continued up the little canyon, following the soft scuffmarks in 
the shallow dirt. The trail made a sharp cut to the right narrowing down 
as it went. Turning the corner, Jack saw a dark spot below the rocky 
cliff face. It appeared to be a small hollowed out cave, washed out by 
the flash floods that this type of terrain was prone to. It was just the 
sort of place that Daniel would hole up in. Maybe Jack's Irish luck was 
holding on for them both this time.

As O'Neill got closer to the opening, he could tell that something had 
indeed been here very recently, even as late as last night even. Holding 
his breath he stepped quietly up to the mouth of the little cave, he bent 
down to peer up and inside the four-foot high opening. "Daniel, are you 
in there?"

There was no answer, but then, he might not be willing or able to do so. 
Sighing his unhappiness at the situation, Jack carefully propped his 
rifle up on the wall of rock outside of the small cave and crouched down 
in the rocky soil, preparing to enter it. His old knee injury twinged, 
reminding him that he would be at a big disadvantage in the small 
confined space. He only hoped he would be finding his lost friend and not 
a denned up bear, lion or rattlesnake.

                         *******************

Chapter 3 The Rescue

Jack crawled into the confined space on his hands and knees. "Daniel, are 
you in here?" The small cave wasn't even large enough to hold an echo, 
but he did get an answer of sorts. He heard the sound of a revolver's 
hammer clicking into place, and a weak but familiar voice that said in 
Cherokee.

"Tla! Ha-le'!" (No! Stop!)

"Daniel, Wa-ya! It's Ta-wa-di, your da-ni-ta-ga." (Coyote, it's Hawk, 
your blood brother.)

The blue eyes looked directly at Jack with no recognition. "NO! Ta-wa-di 
is not here! He is gone east to fight in his war. You are not he."

"Wa-ya," Jack called back in a calm voice, "The war is over...we are gone 
from there. You came for me, remember. You brought me home."

Daniel shook his head defiantly, shifting his position to steady the gun. 
"No! Go now or I will kill you! You cannot have the young ones!"

"Daniel! Look at me." Jack sat back on his heels so the other man could 
see him clearly. "It's Ta-wa-di, It's Jack."

"No! Jack is gone! You lie!" The gun wavered dangerously in his 
direction. "I do not know you!"

"Daniel! Look at me with your eyes and your heart. Who do you see?"

"I see no one." Daniel was visibly shaking now, his finger no doubt 
tightening on the trigger.

Jack knew then that Daniel didn't recognize him in his present state of 
confusion. He had to make his move now, or his best friend would shoot 
him.

As the barrel of the gun wobbled away from him, Jack made his move and 
grabbed the younger man's wrist, pushing it up and away from him. The 
sudden jerking movement caused the gun to discharge with a deafening 
noise within inches of his head. Wrestling the gun away from Daniel, he 
grabbed the younger man around the shoulders hard, pulling him into his 
chest. He could barely hear or see now in the darkness as he clasped 
Daniel securely to him. The loud noise and the powder-flash of the weapon 
had stunned both men.

In a few moments, after Jack's head had cleared from the concussion, he 
looked down at the now unconscious man lying in his arms. It was then 
that he noticed there was blood on both Daniel's hands and his own.

Lying there in the dirt of the cave's floor, cradling his friend, Jack 
gently searched him for its origin. Examining Daniel, he found a bullet 
hole on his upper left chest below the collarbone. The injury had been 
concealed by the dimness of the cave. As Jack shifted him to examine the 
bloodied site, the younger man moved in his arms and moaned softly.

"Danny, you hurting?" He asked gently, brushing the long hair away from 
his friend's face. 

The younger man lolled his head back against O'Neill's chest. "What?" He 
croaked. He looked up in confusion at his friend. "Jack?"

O'Neill indicated his wounded shoulder, " Yeah, Danny, it's me. Your 
shoulder, does it hurt?"

Daniel looked down at his shirt and saw the stain. "My shoulder? Did 
somebody shoot me?"

Jack took the opportunity to lean over and peel the leather shirt away 
from the fair skin exposing a large caliber bullet hole, mottled and 
bruised. He grimaced. "Yeah, I'd say so. Want to come back to camp with 
me? We can put some river water to the sacred fire and do you a healing."

"Jack? You're here?"

"Sure, I had to come and find you. Gotten a little attached to you, ya 
know."

Daniel noticed the color on the other man's hands. "Jack...did I shoot 
you?"

"No Danny, you didn't. We're all right now."

"But I shot at you. God, Jack..." For the first time, Daniel looked 
frightened. "I could have..."

"But you didn't, Danny. It's all right. You didn't know me. You were 
having a spell."

Daniel turned and buried his face in Jack's cotton shirt. O'Neill 
clumsily stroked his friend's long hair. "Are you ready to come back to 
camp with me? You can commiserate with Brown Pony. He needs some petting 
and making over after Doc Janet and Teal's got through with him."

"Pony's dead, Jack." Daniel said softly, his voice muffled by Jack's 
shoulder.

"Nope, I'm happy to say he's probably being spoiled rotten by Sam even as 
we speak."

"But I was riding him when he went down. He lay there and took another 
shot in his back. He didn't even flinch. I cut his girth so his spirit 
could run free."

Jack continued to touch and stroke the younger man's face and hair of 
keep him calm. "Danny, that pony would jump off a cliff if you asked him 
to. He was shot in the left butt and then the last bullet just skittered 
along his ribs. In two weeks, he'll be running the herd off their oats. 
That Mustang's as tough as you are, compadre."

"He's alive?" Daniel looked at him in surprise.

"Alive and kicking, just ask Teal'c to show you the proof. My old camp 
pot will never be the same even if Siler beats the dent out of it. It 
flew at least fifteen feet when Doc dug that slug out of his butt." Jack 
smiled at Daniel's expression. "Will you come with me back to the camp?"

"Okay, except..."

"What, buddy?"

"I don't think I can get up. I seem to have hurt my leg again."

"Aw, Danny..." Jack moved around so he could look at Daniel's leg. He 
hadn't seen it before, but closer inspection showed another bullet wound 
in the big thigh muscle. "Daniel, I'm gonna move it okay?" At his 
friend's nod, Jack gently stretched out the injured limb. Daniel gasped 
once and quietly passed out.

"Sorry about that, Partner." Jack spoke to the unconscious man. "But I 
gotta get you back to camp." He looked at the dirty, bruised face. "Hang 
on Danny. It'll be over soon." 

After making sure that his friend was still breathing, Jack took his 
skinning knife and opened Daniel's pant leg. Though he hated the fact 
that the younger man was that badly hurt, it had saved an argument about 
the leather. He then concentrated on where the bullet was situated. It 
would need Janet's touch to pull out, as would the other. No flesh wounds 
here, both were deep and painful. He pulled his bandana off and wrapped 
it securely over the bullet hole. It had already stopped bleeding but 
could start again when he manhandled Daniel out of the cave.

He gently tugged on Daniel's long legs until his younger friend was lying 
flat on his back. Then, he carefully crawled backwards, dragging the 
unconscious man along with him. When they finally reached the mouth of 
the shallow cave, Jack stood up and stretched, his muscles complaining 
from their cramped position and the heavy load.

Turning around he scanned the rough terrain. There was no way he could 
carry his friend down the rocky ground by himself and he couldn't drag 
him without causing him more injury. Then Jack saw a dark shadow moving 
through the brush. He picked up his rifle from the side of the rock face 
and crouched down over Daniel's unconscious body.

After a moment, Jack relaxed and stood up to wave at Teal'c. The big man 
signaled back and climbed up the slope to his side.

"You have found him, O'Neill. Is he badly injured?"

"Bad enough, Teal'c, one in the upper chest and one in the leg. He's 
gonna hurt like hell when he wakes up."

"And his mind?" The dark brown eyes met Jack's.

"Not too far off, I think. At first he didn't know who I was, but we got 
it worked out." Jack looked down the rough and rocky trail. "We've got to 
get him back to camp."

Teal'c smiled a small smile. "Then it is lucky that I found you. I will 
carry him."

"T, are you sure? He isn't a boy anymore. He's heavy." 

"I will carry him, he is not so heavy, and my horse is just a short 
distance." He bent to lift his burden gently. "So it is not so far." 
Slipping his big hands under Daniel's shoulders and knees, he lifted the 
younger man like a child.

With O'Neill helping to guide Teal'c's steps down the rough trail and to 
the horse, they soon got the injured man back to the campsite. Sam had a 
pot of coffee on and had replenished the simple soup from last evening. 
She had also made some tortillas and fried some bacon that they had 
brought with them.

Jack and Sam quickly set up a bedroll for the injured man and Teal'c 
started the water boiling to purify it to clean the wounds. It was a 
concept that all of them had accepted from Daniel. Jack couldn't say if 
it was the sacred fire purifying the spirits of the water as the younger 
man insisted or for what other reason, but they had discovered that the 
little extra effort it caused them, wounds always healed better and 
faster for it.

Sam had inspected the injuries and pronounced them beyond her meager 
skills to treat. She looked at Jack worriedly. "We need to get him to 
town and into bed so Janet can get the bullets out before they go to the 
bad."

Jack nodded in agreement. One of them should go on to town and get a 
wagon, but with the Comancheros out and running, he didn't want to send 
anyone alone. Tomorrow, they could build a travois and get there in one 
day. But it was too late in the evening to start now.

Sam and Teal'c had started dinner when they heard the welcome sounds of a 
wagon coming up the trail. 

O'Neill slipped up on Hawk bareback and went down the narrow path to meet 
them. It was Old Mike Burell and Dave Siler in the wagon and Lou Ferretti 
as out-rider.

Lou rode out front to meet with Jack. "I see you found him."

"Yeah, he'd gone to ground just like I suspected." Jack nodded at the two 
men in the wagon.

"Found him up in the rocks, did ya?" Mike stated at the two old friends 
shook hands.

Jack nodded, "Up and under a little washed out overhang." 

The old Ranger nodded. "That's where he got his name, when he was a lad 
we found him all denned up and showing teeth."

Jack pointed at the powder burn on his cheek and neck. "Yeah, well, he'll 
still bite if you get too close."

Siler whistled at the mark. "I should say so, Sheriff. You're lucky 
you've still got a face."

"I know, but it was my fault. I should have known not to try and take him 
out of there on my own. But," he shrugged. "Alls well that ends well, I 
suppose."

Mike just shook his head muttering about luck, foolishness and the 
foolhardy.

                         *******************

When they got into camp, Sam and Teal'c added their welcome to everyone. 
Daniel was lying awake in his bedroll, still and quiet. The old Ranger 
climbed stiffly out of the wagon and walked over to his young friend.

"Hullo, Jun'ge. Trying to save the world again?"

"Hello, Mike." Daniel smiled up at him weakly.

"I have told you about doing such things. See you have given Jack gray 
hair, and taken some of mine away."

"I'm sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to cause a fuss."

"Jah, that is what you have always said, little coyote." The old man 
smiled down fondly at him. Then, his eyes shifted to Jack who had sat 
down tiredly on his own bedroll. "How badly is he hurt?"

"Two bullet holes that need Janet." Jack replied. "She's gonna charge me 
extra this time, cause she had to doctor that ole brown horse of Danny's 
too." He waved a hand towards their four mounts that were standing over 
in the shade of some Mesquite trees.

Mike nodded at his motion then both of the men looked as Lou came 
sauntering over to check on the small group. "Dave and Miz Sam are fixing 
some supper for this evening, then we'll take the night watch, Jack. I 
know you haven't got any sleep in a day or so. The mayor and Louigi sent 
along a slab of brisket and some fresh bread after they heard we were 
coming back out to you...and Miz Deb at the hotel stopped us and gave us 
one of her peachy cobblers." He shook his head. "Them's the cookingest 
women I ever did see."

                         *******************

After dinner was eaten and everyone had settled for the evening, Ferretti 
took the first night watch. Though the sheriff wouldn't admit it, he was 
exhausted. The stress of the last two days had taken their toll on him. 
First, the worry about the two missing people, both close to him 
personally; then the discovery of the massacre at the village and 
finally, the search and rescue of Daniel. That in itself was enough to 
take the starch out of the boldest man.

As the sun set, he laid his own bedroll down next to Daniel's sickbed and 
prepared to have what he hoped would be a quiet night's sleep. It was not 
to be so.

After a few hours rest, Daniel began to regain move restlessly in his 
bedroll, murmuring phrases in several different dialects. Jack awoke at 
his movements. Knowing that the younger man was dreaming, he rolled over 
on his side and spoke softly to him. His voice began to penetrate his 
friend's dreams, calming and centering him. When the blue eyes finally 
opened, Jack spoke to him to try and ground him in the here and now. 
"Daniel? How are you feeling?"

Daniel turned to look at him. "Jack?"

"Yeah, buddy. It's me." He moved to lean over his friend so that Daniel 
could see him clearly. "Do you know where you are?"

Daniel seemed confused, looking around. "I'm in a camp with you...and 
some of the others, I think."

"Good, yes, that's right. Now, comes the hard question." Jack gave him a 
crooked smile to encourage him. "Do you remember what happened 
yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" The younger man looked up at him, frowning as he 
concentrated. "Yesterday, I went to the mission to help Padre Joe. Didn't 
I?"

Jack nodded, "Yes, yes you did, that's right. Then, what?"

"I took Cassie with me; she wanted to go for a ride. So I got Feather and 
Brown Pony ready and we left early." He glanced at Jack for 
collaboration. O'Neill nodded for him to go on and Daniel continued 
speaking. "I thought I recognized a little of their language...but I 
hadn't heard it in a long time...not since the Wichita Agency."

"What were you doing way up there?" Jack asked curiously.

Daniel lay back on the saddle blanket that served as his pillow. "After 
Shau'ne...after Shau'ne was taken from us, Grandfather was worried that I 
would follow you to the war in the east. I was thinking of it and he 
didn't want me to go. So, he decided that I should go to help at the 
reservations in the north...to help the different tribes settle in 
together. He knew I enjoyed learning new languages and I was good at it. 
I didn't want to stay in o-ga-la-ho-mi." Daniel sighed and dropped his 
eyes. He fingered the ragged edge of his blanket. "I was restless. 
Everything reminded me of my wife. So I went to the Wichita Agency. 
There, I met and worked with Horace Jones, the scout. He knew several 
tongues and he taught me many things"

O'Neill shook his head sorrowfully. "And here I thought I had left you 
safe in the Nations."

"There was no safe place, Ta-wa-di." Daniel sighed, grimacing as he moved 
in his bed. "The madness of war had even reached into our home. My foster 
brother had gone to fight with Stand Watie in the south. He never came 
back."

Old Mike Burrel had been sitting at the fire listening. "You were at the 
Wichita Agency, Daniel? With the Tonkawa?"

Daniel turned his head to answer his old mentor. "Yes, Mike."

"Ach, that was a bad business. I know Jones, he is a good man but he was 
not able to help much. He told me a little about what when on. I didn't 
know you were involved in that."

Jack looked over at the old Ranger, then back at the younger man. "What 
happened up there?"

"A lot of killing, Jack," Daniel answered sorrowfully. "A whole lot of 
killing." He lay back and closed his eyes.

Jack gently patted Daniel on his good shoulder. "You just rest now, 
Danny. Tomorrow, we'll go back home. Doc can get those bullets out, and 
Dollar will keep your feet warm."

Daniel smiled sleepily up at him. "I'm looking forward to it." 

Jack watched a while longer to make sure that his friend fell asleep 
first, then he too lay down to rest.

                         *******************

Late the next afternoon, the little caravan finally arrived back in 
Tok'ra Flats. They had taken their time allowing for a softer ride for 
the injured man and the slower pace of the wounded horse so it had taken 
most of the day. Word of their arrival had preceded them and Doc Fraiser 
was waiting for them at the door of the storefront that served as her 
hospital.

Teal'c carried the patient into the doctor's clinic, with Jack and Mike 
following in his wake. Sam escorted Brown Pony over to Doc Devra's 
Veterinarian barn and left him there in her good hands. The rest of the 
riders went on to their normal occupations.

The doctor had shooed Mike away so the old man could go and get some rest 
after all the excitement. Doctor Fraiser did allow Jack to sit with 
Daniel while she treated his wounds. She gave him a little morphine for 
the pain, but he refused to let her use the chloroform.

O'Neill knew it was because his friend didn't want any more bad dreams he 
couldn't wake up from. So he stayed there with Daniel, as the younger man 
argued in vain about the doctor cutting off his leathers, then gripped 
O'Neill's hand hard as he suffered silently throughout the ordeal of 
Janet probing for the two bullets.

Finally, when the operation and treatment were over; Daniel had once 
again fallen into a deep exhausted sleep. Janet sent the sheriff off to 
get some rest of his own. She assured him that all the injuries were in 
non-vital areas and everything had went well. All Daniel needed, she told 
him, was lots of rest and time. He would be back to normal by mid-winter.

After being effectively run off by the Doctor Fraiser, Sheriff O'Neill 
checked in with Judge Hammond, letting him know the details of their 
search. The Judge had heard the young man had been found but he wanted a 
complete report from his sheriff. Jack also told Judge Hammond about the 
destruction of the Tonkawa village and they discussed what help they 
could offer to Father O'Neill for the benefit of the children. After the 
two men had spoken at some length, Jack headed over to the Emerald City 
Saloon for a beer, and a meal in that order.

The sheriff sat down at his normal table and ordered dinner. Louigi 
hovered a bit as he delivered the meal and caught Jack up with the local 
town news. O'Neill listened with half an ear, being too caught up in his 
own thoughts to be very talkative. The bartender finally gave up the 
conversation and went back to whatever chores he had.

Just as he finished eating, O'Neill looked up to see Teal's, Samantha and 
Mike enter the dining room. He motioned them over to the table.

When they had all gotten seated and Louigi had brought them drinks, Mike 
asked. "Who's with Daniel?"

"Janet is sitting with him for now." Sam answered. "I've just come from 
there. I'll go spell her after we're through."

Jack shook his head at her offer. "Thanks, Sam, but I need to be with 
him. If he has dreams tonight, you won't be able to wake him, and he 
might accidentally hit you when he starts fighting."

Mike looked at Jack with concern written on his face. "The dreams, they 
are that bad?"

Jack nodded grimly. "Yes, and I'm sure this is going to bring them all 
back again."

"Jah, you are probably right." The old man looked sorrowfully at the 
table. "I didn't know that he was at the Wichita. Like you, I thought he 
was safe at Wise Eagle's farm during the war."

Sam looked back and forth at the two men. "What happened at Wichita 
anyway? Isn't that in Kansas?"

"Jah, Sam." Mike answered her. "But it's not where it's at that's the 
problem, but what happened there."

Teal'c looked at him curiously. "What did happen there, Ranger Burell?"

Mike took a drink of his beer. "Murder, Teal'c, cold blooded murder."

                         *******************

Chapter 4 Home Again

Jack immediately turned his attention to the old Ranger. "Murder, Mike? 
Were you there?"

"Ach, no. I know Jones, he is a good man but he was not able to help 
much. He told me a little about what went on. That was a bad business. I 
didn't know Daniel was involved in that."

"Mike, what do you know about this Wichita Agency thing?"

"I don't know much really, just what I had heard through talk." The old 
man stopped to think. "It was back in sixty-two, during the war years. 
The Rangers had been disbanded. All the youngsters, like yourself, had 
run off to fight in Mister Lincoln's war." He smiled over at Jack, who 
nodded.

"There were only a few old timers like me left to keep the peace in Texas 
and the territories." He shook his head. "It was a difficult time. 
Highwaymen, bandits, Comanche, Comancheros, even some Apaches were 
keeping things hot for us. Some of the smaller tribes were being 
relocated to other areas. The Tonkawas left their home range to go to the 
Wichita Station." He paused to think of how to explain it.

"The Cherokee themselves were having a civil war inside the civil war. 
There were Indian soldiers on both sides. The Choctaw and Chickasaw sided 
with the Confederates as well as most of the Creeks and Shawnees.

The two things that the Comanche, Kiowa, Cheyenne, Apache and Arapaho 
agreed on was that they didn't care who won the war, as long as the white 
man just went away. The other was they didn't like the Tonkawa." Mike 
took a long drink of his beer, then continued. "I knew Jones. He was a 
scout and an interpreter. I saw him some years later and he told me about 
it. In sixty-two, he was at the Wichita Agency. Your war had been going 
on about a year. He said that one night, he heard riders coming to his 
cabin.

The Osage and some of the Shawnee had sided with the Federals. The 
Wichitas had thrown their lot with them too. They had moved from the 
Agency to Kansas. A handful of smaller tribes: Caddo, Tonkawa and Wacoes 
were still at the Wichita Agency that now was in Confederate control. 
They were too poor to bother with and basically had remained neutral.

Well, when Jones heard the commotion, he slipped out the back to where 
his pony was hobbled. He realized that it was the Osage and Shawnee who 
were Federal sympathizers on a raid of the Confederate post." Mike 
stopped and looked at his audience. They were looking at him with their 
full attention.

He continued, "That night would bring the greatest massacre that Indian 
Territory would ever see. The Osage riddled the cabin with rifle shots 
and then set it on fire. The rest of the buildings at the agency were 
also burned and all the white people killed. The raiders then moved on to 
Ft. Cobb where they killed the occupants and set that post on fire."

"Jones said he tried spreading the alarm but no one wanted to believe 
him. They believed that the friendly tribes would have warned them if 
there were going to be a raid. They were wrong. He said he would take 
them outside and show them the glow of the burning Ft. Cobb five miles in 
the distance... then maybe, some of them, would believe.

After the raiders had burned the Wichita Agency and Ft. Cobb, they turned 
south to the Tonkawa Village. Now, you got to understand, this had 
nothing to do with the Civil War. All of the southern plains tribes just 
plain hated the Tonkawa."

Sam sat her Iced tea down beside her plate and looked at the old man. 
"Why?'

Jack looked at her, then realized she didn't know the real reason. "You 
see, Sam, the Tonkawas were cannibals."

Ranger Burell explained further. "Jah, that's right. The word in the 
Comanche and Kiowa language used for Tonkawa meant the same thing... 
eaters of humans." At her shocked expression, he continued. "Story has it 
that a few years earlier two Kiowa boys about twelve years old was out 
hunting alone. The Tonkawa tried to capture them but one boy escaped. He 
hid in the bushes in a ravine and watched as the Tonkawas killed his 
friend and started cutting him up and began to cook the flesh on the 
campfire. Then, the other lad ran for his very life. A band of Comanche, 
who were allies of the Kiowa, found him. When the boy told his story, the 
Comanche went to the Kiowa village and gathered reinforcements. The two 
tribes then rode to the Tonkawa camp and surrounded it. The Comanche and 
Kiowa snuck in close to the village to see if the boy's story was true. 
They saw the dead Kiowa boy and the Tonkawa cooking his flesh on the 
fire. The Comanche and Kiowa were so repulsed by what they saw that they 
immediately attacked and killed every man, woman and child in that 
village."

Jack nodded over his beer. "That's what Ferretti had said, them being 
cannibals and all."

Mike spoke. "Now, this night at Wichita, they had the entire Tonkawa 
tribe in one place and one camp. They attacked with the rifles given to 
them by the Federals. The Tonkawa only had bows and arrows to defend 
themselves. It wasn't much of a battle, just a slaughter. The attackers 
ran down most of them and killed them in the brush. Only a few escaped, 
less than two hundred. There had been over one thousand the day before."

Jack looked at Teal'c, who nodded. That was exactly the type of country 
where they had found Daniel.

Mike continued. "The massacre continued all through the night into the 
next day. By the end of the day, the Osage had killed over eight hundred 
Tonkawa men, women and children. They almost wiped out the whole tribe."

The old Ranger took another drink of beer. "The few Tonkawas that did 
survive managed to get to the Confederate outpost at Fort Arbuckle manned 
by the Chickasaw Battalion. Because it was illegal for any other tribe to 
be in the Chickasaw Nation the commander at Fort Arbuckle sent an urgent 
message to the Chickasaw governor asking permission for the tribe to seek 
shelter from the Osages in the Nation. The governor granted then 
permission."

"He let them stay?" Teal'c said in satisfaction.

Mike nodded. "The commander of the post gave what food he could spare to 
the Tonkawas. Then he sent them to the springs on Rocky Creek eighteen 
miles east of Ft. Arbuckle. The wounded survivors of the Osage raid moved 
into the safety of the springs that November." The old man shrugged. "I 
had thought there were all still there."

"So, while the white man was off fighting in the war between north and 
south back east," Sam nodded, comprehension in her eyes, "the Indians 
were having their own version of the war, only it was divided between the 
tribes."

"It was more than that, Sam," O'Neill said thoughtfully. "I heard that 
there were Cherokee soldiers on both sides of the war. They did have 
feelings about the way they wanted the union to be. It's just some of the 
tribes took...advantage of the situation."

"Jah, they took the old hatreds and turned them into political opinions." 
Mike shrugged. "And it seemed that no one liked the Tonkawa."

Teal'c spoke thoughtfully, "Cannibalism is not unknown among the black 
people of the old world, but it is usually the source of much hatred."

"Yeah, and I've heard of people who will eat a part of an enemy...for his 
strength, youth, or knowledge." The sheriff commented, "It's not 
completely unheard of...but..." Jack let the thought trail off. "It does 
cause problems with the neighbors."

Sam frowned at him. "And you think our Daniel was involved in this?"

Mike nodded. "From what you have all said, and what I heard, I would say 
he was. Jones said that there was a young man helping him at the Agency, 
but he didn't say the name." He shrugged, "I did not think of Daniel, but 
it could have easily been him."

Jack sighed. "I'll just have to ask him, Mike. And hope that he'll talk."

                         *******************

Later that evening, after a good meal and a nap, Jack sauntered into the 
Doctor's office. Cassie was sweeping the floor in the entry room. She 
immediately put the broom down and went over to the Sheriff and hugged 
him around the waist.

"Hey! What was that for? Not that I'm complaining you understand."

She looked up at him with big brown eyes. "That's thank you, for saving 
Daniel and me...."

"You're very welcome." He smiled down at her. "But I've kind of gotten 
used to the two of you being around town here. I think I'd miss you." He 
looked up to see Doctor Fraiser enter the room. "Besides, your Ma would 
never let me live it down if something happened to you."

"That's the truth." Janet nodded to him. Cassie smiled over at her 
mother, then released the tall man.

"So," the doctor commented to him, tilting her head to the side. "Are you 
going to tell me what happened to your face?"

"Awe, now Doc. It's just a little powder burn. It should fade out soon."

She motioned him over to the chair by her desk. "I thought that's what it 
looked like. It was that close, was it?"

The sheriff had the good graces to look embarrassed. "I grabbed the gun 
and it went off next to my face." he said with a shrug.

"Let me clean that up a bit, so it won't get infected." The Doctor shook 
her head. "This is going to hurt Daniel's feelings you know."

"He's already seen it." Jack sighed as she began to clean the area and 
apply a salve to his skin.

"So can you hear out of this ear yet?"

"Yeah, the ringing has calmed down pretty well." he replied wryly. "And I 
only see purple spots when I look at the sun."

She frowned at his levity. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

"C'mon Doc. Every morning I wake up, I can get myself killed; but it's 
not every day that I can save a friend's life."

"Oh, I give up." She threw the towel down on the table. "I suppose you 
want to spend the night here too."

"I suppose," Jack grinned at her. "If you'll let me."

"Take the other bed tonight. I'll let you take him home in the morning, 
if you promise not to let him walk more than a few steps." She looked at 
him seriously. "And no stairs, when he gets up to his room, he stays 
there unless Teal'c carries him down."

"I will not promise what I cannot guarantee." O'Neill shook his head. 
"You know Daniel, when he gets it in his head...."

"...He's as stubborn as you are." Fraiser finished the sentence for him.

                         *******************

That night Jack had taken the doctor up on her offer of the other cot in 
the hospital room. It wasn't much, a hard bench with a thin padding of 
woolen army blankets, but it was softer than the floor and just across 
the room from Daniel who was in an identical bed. 

The evening started quiet enough, the injured man still under the 
influence of the morphine and sleeping the deep sleep of the drugged. 
O'Neill had settled down himself to a weary rest. But it was not to last.

Daniel started moving restlessly in his sleep. Then before Jack was 
completely awake, the younger man had started to talk. "Nu la', nu la', 
tsv-gi-li-si. A-ye-ga-li'!"

Waking up and hurrying to his friend's side, Jack took Daniel's hand in 
his and began patting his cheek. "Danny, wake up. Danny, wake up for me. 
Come on!"

"Tla, a-ye-ga-li...Shush. Be quiet! Hurry!"

"Daniel! Wake up!"

Daniel sat up in the bed and jerked away from his friend looking at him 
with a frown. "No, hurry, we've got to hurry!"

"Daniel!"

"NO! NO! NOOOO!"

Jack grabbed him by his good arm to keep him from falling. "Danny!"

Daniel looked at him in relief. "Jack! Jack, I knew you'd come." His 
voice dropped to a whisper. "Jack, we have to get the children out of 
here...they're coming...."

"Daniel, you saved them, you got the children out. It's okay."

"NO! You don't understand..." Daniel turned and grabbed him by his 
undershirt's open neck. "They want to kill them too! No, Jack you can't 
let them..." There were tears in his eyes by now. "Jack, you'll help me?"

"Yeah, Danny, I'll help you. Where are the kids? Where are they?"

"I told them to stay in the cabin...I told them to stay there and they'd 
be safe! We've got to get back to the cabin..."

Jack wasn't following at this point, but he figured it was part of the 
dream. There was no cabin at the village that he'd seen, but..."Danny, if 
they're in the cabin, then they're safe."

"NO, NO, NO! The cabin, I saw the cabin, I SAW THE CABIN!" Daniel was 
shouting.

"Daniel, Danny, what did you see?" He had hold of Daniel by the shoulders 
but the younger man was trying to pull loose from his grasp. "Danny, what 
about the cabin?"

"I left the children in the cabin, to be safe, I went to get the others, 
the others were with me...and I went into the cabin...and...."

"What? What was in the cabin?"

"They had found them, Jack they found them..."

"Daniel! What was in the cabin, Danny?"

"NOOOOOO!" The younger man jerked back against Jack's hands, fighting to 
get loose from him.

Out of sheer frustration, Jack shook him. "Daniel! Danny! What did you 
see in the cabin"?

In a spasm of fear and strength, Daniel pulled out of Jack's hands and 
tried to get out of bed. His leg crumpled under him and he fell onto the 
floor. O'Neill cursed, pushed the cot back out of the way and knelt by 
his friend.

"Danny, you saved them! You saved the children..."

"NO, no no no.....don't you see?" Daniel looked around the floor in a 
panic, tears running unchecked down his face, his breaths coming in 
painful sobs. "They're all dead, Jack; they're all shot dead. I tried to 
pick them up, but their blood, they say the blood is bad and it's all the 
same." The young man held up his hands as if to show his friend. "It's 
all the same."

O'Neill stared at Daniel, beginning to realize just what had happened. He 
reached out and took the trembling hands. Then, he pulled Daniel back 
into his arms, by now he was sobbing openly, barely managing to speak. "I 
tried to keep them safe, Jack, but....the blood is everywhere...."

Jack knew he had to get his friend back out of the dream he was trapped 
in. "Danny, listen to me. There is no cabin! The cabin was years ago. 
You're only dreaming of the cabin. You saved these children. They're at 
the mission. Joe will keep them safe now." He stroked the long light 
brown hair. "It's all right, Danny. You did it. You saved these kids." 
Jack reached up and pulled the blanket off the bed and down on top of 
them. A pillow came with it and he stuck it under his own head and 
shoulder, then pulled the blanket over both of them. He continued 
crooning, as if to a small child. "It's okay, you're safe, and the 
children are safe."

Daniel looked up at him, trustingly. "Safe now?"

"Yeah, Danny, you're safe now." He continued to pet the fair head as it 
settled on his chest and shoulder. "Get some sleep now."

Daniel lay there, quiescent for a while, but then spoke in an exhausted 
voice."

"Jack?"

"Yeah, buddy."

"The children...."

"It's okay, Danny, all the children are safe now...you can go to sleep 
now."

"Sleep?"

"Yeah, Danny...sleep."

                         *******************

EPILOGUE

The next morning dawned early. The sun shown in brightly on the hard 
wooden floor where Jack O'Neill was sleeping on a thin pillow propped up 
against the wall. The weight on his chest shifted and moaned. Looking 
down, he watched the light brown head move, then peer around in confusion 
as if trying to get his bearings.

"Jack?"

He smiled to himself. That sounded like his Daniel. "Good morning."

"Where?"

"Doc's office."

"Oh." A pause. "Floor?"

"Your decision, not mine."

Daniel started to sit up, then winced in pain clutching at his arm. 
O'Neill helped steady him and propped his friend up against the wall. 
Then Jack scooted over to sit next to him, also leaning back. He watched 
Daniel carefully.

Daniel seemed to accept his injury without question, but frowned when he 
saw the mark on Jack's face. "Did I do that?"

O'Neill nodded.

"Sorry."

"I know." Jack looked his friend over closely. "What do you remember 
about the last few days?"

The other man frowned as he concentrated. "Cassie and I were at the 
mission talking to the two Tonkawa men. We thought that I might know 
their headman, so I decided to go to the village." He paused. Jack nodded 
for him to continue. "We did. He recognized me right off."

"From Wichita?"

Daniel continued, "We were sitting at the fire circle, talking about them 
coming in to the mission when we heard the riders. The chief told me to 
leave, asked me to take the little ones to safety." Daniel shook his 
head. "I should have stayed."

Jack looked at him then pressed him. "Why? So you could get killed too? 
And Cassie, and the little ones you did save?"

Daniel looked up at him wordlessly.

"Cause they would have, you know." Jack continued on, pushing his 
advantage. "They would have killed all of you...you...the kids...Cassie, 
so you couldn't tell who done it." O'Neill looked at him sternly. "You 
couldn't have done anything else but what you did."

Daniel sighed and nodded. "Cassie and I got as many kids as we could and 
headed for the river. A few of them followed."

"Who were they Daniel? How many?"

"I really don't know." He answered honestly, "It's all jumbled in my 
head. Feather bolted, I tried to get Cassie up on old Pony, but she 
wouldn't leave without the kids. So, she took off in the brush with them 
and I tried to stop them." He looked at Jack. "Pony went down, and I got 
shot...I don't remember much after that."

Jack nodded; it was more than he had expected. "I went to the mission 
looking for you and Cassie. Joe told me where you'd gone. Young Bull came 
with me and we went to the village. After we got there, we tracked you to 
the river. I found where Pony fell and then we came up on Cassie." He 
looked at Daniel. "You saved twenty-four young ones, Danny. You did 
good."

"How many did I kill?"

"I don't know exactly." Jack said honestly. "Three or four for sure, 
but...well, they deserved it."

The two friends sat there on the floor for a while longer, both lost in 
their thoughts. Finally, Daniel turned to Jack. "Why did they do it?"

"Who, the whites?" At the other man's nod, Jack continued. "Fear, not 
knowing, and some for just meanness." He shifted to a more comfortable 
position. "People are afraid what they don't understand. They probably 
heard that the village was Tonkawa. To a lot of folks that means only one 
thing."

Daniel looked at him. "They thought they were bad."

Jack nodded again. "Yep, they were different. They had a different 
culture, different beliefs. Rumors, stories, they say one thing... truth 
is usually somewhere in between." he shrugged. "Some folks hated them, 
some folks were scared of them, and some may have wanted revenge. But," 
he looked at Daniel directly "nothing that happened was your fault or 
your doing. If you hadn't been there, well, all those kids would have 
been killed too."

"What's going to happen to them now?"

"Now? Now, they're at the mission. Joe will protect them, and the Anasazi 
will raise them. The kids will grow up knowing different things than 
their people would have taught them. Like you grew up knowing the 
Cherokee way, instead of what your white parents would have showed you." 
Jack grew quiet.

"What?" Daniel looked at him.

"Danny, everyone is right by their own learning." He shifted restlessly. 
"I was born to be a city man, but I grew up to be a farmer. Then I turned 
into a gun-hand, a Ranger, then a soldier and now a lawman. Every time I 
changed, I learned something more, something different." He looked at the 
other man. "Look at yourself. You were born on the other side of the 
world in someplace called Egypt, but your Ma and Pa brought you to Texas. 
Instead of being an educated gentleman, you wound up being an Indian, a 
frontiersman, an interpreter and now you're a deputy. Everybody changes 
according to the way their own life's river flows. Those kids started out 
being heathen Tonkawas, now they'll be raised Anasazi. They'll be 
civilized, educated and converted. It's not a bad thing, it's not 
necessarily a good thing, it's just the way it is." He smiled at his 
friend. "But one thing is for certain. They're still alive, and they only 
got one man to thank for that... and its you, Daniel Jackson. You did 
real good, and I'm proud to call you friend."

Daniel dropped his eyes and blushed a little, then he looked around the 
doctor's office as if contemplating something. "Jack?"

"Yeah, Daniel?"

"Can you help me get up off the floor? It's getting kind of hard."

"I surely can partner. I surely can."

                         *******************

Later that day, Daniel, Jack and old Mike were sitting on the front porch 
of the Emerald City Saloon. Daniel had his injured leg propped up on a 
box, and his cat Gato was laying in his lap. Jack was leaning back in his 
rocking chair, but careful not to move because his pup Dollar was 
sleeping under it. Various members of the small community had come by to 
say howdy to the wounded man. Cassie had come over with them but had to 
go back and help her mama. The Doctor had packed up the buckboard to go 
out to the mission with supplies for the children. Sam and Teal'c had 
gone with them just in case.

Miz Majel had brought Daniel a pair of crutches that she'd fashioned when 
she heard he was wounded. Miz Devra had come by to report that Brown Pony 
was doing well, if walking a little gimpy. The seamstress, Miz Jo had 
brought him a new pair of britches with buttons up the one side so he 
could get to his wound easier without shucking his pants every time. Miz 
Nicci had brought over a brand new woolen lap rug for him made out of the 
O'Neill tartan that she'd just got in. She'd offered to make the deputy a 
kilt so he wouldn't have to wear the britches in the first place, but 
Daniel had refused politely, blushing an interesting shade of red at the 
idea of wearing a skirt.

Mike had sat and wondered at the parade of concerned citizens. "This is 
one of the friendliest towns I ever did see." Mike commented after the 
mayor left from bringing out some iced tea to the three men.

"Yep," Jack nodded. "Everyone here is real fond of Daniel. I thinks he's 
done something for just about all of them, helping out here and there."

Daniel just shook his head. "It's easy to help nice people; I just really 
like it here."

"Yep, I'd say you've found you a home here, Daniel." Mike smiled at him. 
"And you too, Jack."

"Well, you know what they say Mike." Jack answered for the both of them. 
"Home is more than a place; it's where your heart lays quiet after a long 
hard day." He glanced over at his Daniel and the two men shared a smile.

"Jah," Mike nodded. "Ein Tok'ra Flats, ist das lieben schoen." 

The End

The story of the Fate of the Tonkawa Indian tribe is true. In October of 
1862, There were over one thousand members of that Tribe at the Wichita 
Agency. All but 150 of them, along with the white staff, were killed 
during the raid by the other tribes of northern sympathies. It was only 
one episode of the Civil War that occurred in the Indian Territories 
during this period.