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 Repeat