Fearsome Fish LbNA #42218

Alice wiped the dirt from her hands after planting the young boxwood near the Northwest corner of the house her father had built, years ago. He and her Uncle Edward, both Quakers, had been the first white settlers to put down roots in the area, at the middle of the shore, and this house was the oldest one in the county. Uncle Edward had found his fortune through building the grist mill on the other side of the creek that employed several families. The oldest of four, Alice had earned a reputation as a savvy real estate investor, even while acting through her husband, who was a great man in his own right.

Alice had one more task to perform today. Carefully making her way through the greenbrier and other thorny plants at the start of the coastal forest trail, she quickly passed into the pine forest and moved left through the small clearing. She passed the sassafras trees that provided an additional source of income to the area, as those back in England were fond of the sloop that could be made from it, and it could be easily transported to the nearby ships. Alice did not care for the beverage herself. Turning left at the fork, she passed a Southern Red Oak, unusual for these parts, and a Black Cherry, usually found at the edge of the forest.

Standing in between two loblolly pines, her thoughts drifted to the words of her mother, Mary, a deeply religious woman. Mary’s goal had been to convert 250 disciples and train 12 pastors, a goal which later changed to 340 disciples and 9 pastors. After reflecting on these goals, Alice walked due North about 15 feet, and buried the fish on the Northern side of a pine tree beneath some fallen limbs and straw. Alice was no heathen, but the native people had always sworn by this technique for planting. With that, her task was complete.