Outnumbered (Book 6) by Robert Schobernd Read Free Book Online Page A

teams up and down steep grades. We'll also need the tandem dump truck, one pickup and the large farm tractor. Will you check them out?
    "As for the livestock, we'll take a few more than half the cattle, hogs, sheep, goats and chickens. We'll claim six of the ten riding horses and eight of the ten adult draft horses. Besides the two adults we'll leave, there are three foals and four two-year-olds. The people we're leaving will be left ample stock. If you're wondering how I arrived at those quantities, we helped initially prepare the garden area for planting, built two grand barns with large pens and helped renovate every cabin to some extent, plus numerous other projects. We're taking what we deserve because we'll have to replicate those efforts at our new home. I don't think there'll be serious troubles here, but be prepared to fight for the material items we're taking with us; you've earned it.
    "Before we disband for the evening, I want to thank each of you for being here. I realize how emotionally wrenching it is to split families for your core beliefs and ideals. Leaving loved ones behind will be the most difficult part of our journey. Thanks, friends."
     
    Three of us rode away early the next morning. Each of us led a pack horse. Once we were on the old State Route 160, I planned to follow it to Beaver Creek and search the area on the northwest end of Bull Shoals Lake for a suitable homesite. An old Missouri map in my gear was thin on the fold lines from being opened and closed many times in the past. My goal was to find a site away from the fingers of water stretching from the main lake. I wanted to be on one of the tributaries feeding it. Eventually, the massive man-made concrete dam at the end of the lake would fail leaving a dry hole where the lake had been. But after the dam's collapse, Beaver Creek would still flow into the empty lake bed. I intended to be situated on a long term source of nearby fresh water, so we'd not locate on the lake where the water level would eventually fall to a muddy bottom.
    Our first two days were spent traveling. I figured Beaver Creek was about forty miles from the homes and loved ones we'd left behind. On the second day at mid-afternoon, we arrived at a bridge crossing a finger of the lake where it was about half-a-mile wide. The lake level was on the high scale as we'd had ample rain through the spring months. There was no way to know how the dam gates had been left without visiting the dam, and there wasn't time for that. However they were set, I was positive the lake level would rise and fall drastically without the means to adjust the gate positions. I looked to the North. Unseen in the distance was the confluence where Beaver Creek emptied into the lake. Maybe our new homesite lay in that direction.
     
    We rode north for three days searching the east side of the creekbank. We were in the western most section of the Mark Twain Forest. It was one of eight such areas identified on my map.   Thus far, nothing we'd seen suited us. They were too big, too small, too far apart or there was no decent farm ground close by. The following morning, we forded the creek at a wide, rocky, shallow spot and began our search along the west bank. That day was a repeat of our efforts on the east bank. Finally, at mid morning on our fifth day of searching, we rode up to a large private lodge setting up a slight grade from the broad, fast flowing creek. A decrepit white painted board fence surrounded the vast property on three sides down to the creek. The lodge's log construction gave the three story structure a solid, woodsy look.
    Surprisingly, the doors weren't locked. Inside, the place had a light dust coating from fifteen years of abandonment, but everything looked intact. The whole interior was varnished natural wood. The first floor had a large central living space with a huge, beautiful stone fireplace that took up the center of the room. It was open on all four sides, and leather couches