Correspondence from Lt Nathaniel Copeland to Jonathan Winsforthe II, dating October 16, 1780
My good friend Jonathan,
I write to you to inform you of our spectacular tale of following the Daniel Boone trace into Indian territory. I am certain you recall our agreement for me to lead this expedition of men to an Indian village of which you frequently trade rifles and tools for furs. We left Virginia proper on the ninth of September on an unusually brisk morning, heading into the wilds with our caravan of commodities to trade with the Indian peoples. I count myself and some of my men to be particularly graced by God himself that most of our cargo hefted ammunition and muskets, the chance of our survival would have been little to none had it not been so. The journey into the forest was of no real note. A young boy named Callum was our de facto cook and a fine cook did he make. Nightly we had fresh game prepared and local vegetables, some of which we fattened with our existing rations when nature was not of a mood to supply us. I tell you nothing but the truth when I say that young man’s venison pudding could have been served in the highest of courts!
It was around the turn into October when we made our way into thicker wood. The men knew this as a marker that we were nearing the rolling hills that would replace the giant, sloping mountains we had traversed so long. The thicker wood at times confused the men. Some days great progress was made and other days we seemed to move backwards. Our Indian guide, the one we called David for none among us could recite his tribal name, was beside himself with superstitions when we began to have difficulty covering ground. He told me once that a great heathen God rested below the mountains we passed, and it was grasping at us to keep us far from something. I explained to him that he spoke madness and corrected him into faith of the one and only God. This did nothing to appease David. At the time I was a man stern in my convictions and faith, as every goodman shall be. After our experience on this journey I am uncertain as to the nature of many things, please forgive my ranting.
At the jeering behest of a few of the more wild men among us, David did entreat this false idol to let us go and begone. He did so by snatching a bird right from its nest in the haze of twilight. David had us all go to our tents as he worked his profane ritual. I sent the men away but I stayed of my own stubbornness, I did not want this man to run away after some ruse. David drew a diamond upon the dirt with a yellowing powder he had among his possessions and added several rigid and angular lines through and inside it. The design was hypnotic, and watching David prepare it made my stomach turn. There was something inert and disgusting about the shape, Jonathan. I can only describe it as wrong. I believe there must have been a deer carcass somewhere to our back, for as the wind came in our direction there was the pungent lure of rot in the air. I covered my nose with a kerchief, but David did not seem bothered. He chanted in the frustrating tongue of his people as he did so, and this I would not stand for. I commanded him to speak plainly in English, for I had no idea if he was calling his brethren to attack us. David resigned to English, and the words came out as so-
“Mother below,
Less of we know,
We trust in your wisdom,
But please let us go.”
Once he was satisfied with whatever mysticism he felt appropriate David killed the bird in efficiency with a twist of its neck. Among his things he produced a spade and buried it in the middle of the nauseating symbol and he informed me of the completion of this ritual. I sent him to bed without supper for his oddities.
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To the credit of David the next two days we made much further headway. I believed it was simply a reinforcing of the superstition being lifted that spurred the men on through the terrain better. We stopped for lunch before entering the area of this village so we could retain our vitality during our transactions. It was David who recognized the smoke coming from the village were not cookfires, and we made haste to the village. Should it have burned we would have had to wait several weeks for any more trade opportunities due to their rebuilding. When we reached the clearing of the village a horrible excitement was aroused in the men and I. They were all dead. Men lay broken and twisted in agony across the grounds of the village. Women and children lay face down and still, as if some sudden and total sickness had taken them. I directed my men to begin to dig, we would give them proper burials and take their furs and valuables. There was no need for valuables for the dead, despite protestations of some less practical, greener men. It took the better part of the remaining daylight to get all of the bodies into two considerable pits, which the men dutifully covered with soil and one man gave them a eulogy of sorts, though his knowledge of the bible seemed less than appropriate for such duties. As Callum prepared our supper by the last light of the sun the rest of the men loaded furs and trinkets onto the wagons. I had taken a rest by the fire and had started drafting you a letter very different from this one before a sort of unease gripped me. I am a man of many hard-fought battles, having a hand in winning our statehood, and I know when I am being watched.
Without making myself obvious I unhitched one of the horses, grabbing a musket meant for trade. I told a few questioning men I was going looking for opossums, but when the treeline began to shake I routed my plans entirely. I shouted at the men to grab weapons, and within minutes the men were armed. Most had muskets, being former soldiers. Some hefted axes and a few had spears the natives had left behind with their passing. Callum had picked up one of the bows we had found, along with a good quiver of arrows he strapped to his side in a hurry. The boy was well sighted, and this must have been why he was the first to go. Callum darted his eyes into the trees and his eyes widened to a point I thought must be painful. The blacks of his eyes became so round I could scarcely see the brown around them. He trailed off towards the other side of the trees, dropping his bow carelessly as he did so. The men watched him in silence, wondering what he had seen. It is among my deepest regrets that I did not try to stop him. As with this change in his demeanor we all fell victim to a sudden and inexplicable terror. My throat turned dry and my body became wrought with a cold sweat. I felt myself stuck to the very ground on which I stood. David cried out as Callum walked into the trees. All was quiet for a very long moment, and then we saw the boy’s arms roll out of the treeline, severed from his body. I ordered the men to attack, and a scream of defiance came from David. ‘Look away from them! Look away!’ He screamed his pleas but my men knew well where their pay came from. This is a great shame of mine as well, as the weapon-wielding men entered the trees those horrible, godless things emerged to greet them.
Jonathan, how do you describe what God had no hand in creating? They were devils and devils of a unique sort. They were white in complexion, stark and easily distinguishable under the veil of night. Most had raven hair atop their heads, though a few were entirely hairless. The most troublesome feature was their eyes. They were large, larger by a normal man’s eye by at least threefold. The sizable eyes were silvery in color, with a few darker spots among them. They caught the scant light and seemed to emit a strange luminescence of their own. I never looked one head-on, but it was impossible to see. Just the sight of those horrible eyes twisted my gut and crumpled my bravado. It was a slaughter, Jonathan. The men under your employ and my command were torn apart, while some simply dropped dead after a prolonged look into the eyes of these things. “Do not look them in the eyes!” David grabbed my shoulder and roused me from my stupor. We unhitched a second horse and the two of us wordlessly came away from this unholy spectacle. There was nothing we could do for the men or poor Callum, not according to David. David tells me on our return trip to an inn at the foothills along the trace that they are a known enemy to his people. They are called the Moon-Eyed People. He said he did not know their name in their tongue, but had heard it once and suffered a terrible pain to the head for days afterward. The most surprising thing was that I believed him. After seeing what I have seen I am firmly in the belief that devils walk among us. We would be fools to push our God-given boundaries further into this land of death and devilry. I have borrowed against business ventures of my wife’s father and some of my own and enclosed part of the money you would have made from those cursed furs. I apologize for this inconvenience, but please do understand my plight. Tonight we gather what we need and will make way as swiftly as possible for Boston, where I intend to never leave.
Yours,
Nathaniel.