Changed Anne Bonny to be more historically accurate, Ann Fulford

Added some details and scene of her ship running aground and her cutting
some of the rigging to swing ashore.

1 files changed, 82 insertions, 29 deletions

diff --git a/lbh.txt b/lbh.txt
index ca298e8..4fb1498 100644
--- a/lbh.txt
+++ b/lbh.txt
@@ -87,6 +87,7 @@ Birdie the artist, Lulu the what? What does Lulu do? We need to get deeper into
 
 # Unused scenes
 
+Jamaican sloops[1] had beams that were narrower than ocean-going Bermuda sloops, and could attain a speed of around 12 knots.[2] They carried gaff rig, whereas in modern usage, a Bermuda sloop excludes any gaff rig. Jamaican sloops were built usually out of cedar trees, for much the same reasons that Bermudian shipwrights favoured Bermuda cedar: these were very resistant to rot, grew very fast and tall, and had a taste displeasing to marine borers.[3] Cedar was favoured over oak as the latter would rot in about 10 years, while cedar would last for nigh on 30 years and was considerably lighter than oak.[3] When the ships needed to be de-fouled from seaweed and barnacles, pirates needed a safe haven on which to careen the ship. Sloops were well suited for this because they were able to sail in shallow areas where larger ships would either run aground or be unable to sail through at all. These shallow waters also provided protection from ships of the British Royal Navy, which tended to be larger and required deep water to sail safely.[3]
 ## Storm desc
 
 That even a thunderstorm rolls in, cools off the land, the sunsets throught he clouds, the sound of the thunder was like drmming, a marshall, marching ound that advanced across the waves toward them. It was early, far to early for a big storm, those came later, at the end of summer, the first on was the sign it was time to move south, time to head to St Augustine for the winter. This was a thunderstorm from the south. A tk, Tamba called them. It brought a strange drop in temeprature as iff the storm were sucking something out of summer, giving it a viseral punch in the gut. No, as if summer were grathering herself up, taking a deeep breath, a momentary pause from her usual swelter to give them some reprieve. 
@@ -204,7 +205,7 @@ By the time they arrived all the twins had left was a memory of trees. The deep
 
 ## Chapter 1: On The Sea
 
-The scent of the world crept into her hammock before she ever opened her eyes. The smell of wet wood and salt. The soft sweetness of wood too long at sea and then the bright briny salt smell of the sea itself. She opened her eyes and looked up. A sliver of purple twilight peaked through the canvas of the hammock, wrapped up around her. She craned her head back to look at the dark brown mast, crusted with salty white patterns that looked like the drawings of snowflakes in Papa's big book, which was wrapped carefully in walrus leather and stored somewhere in the hold beneath the deck. 
+The scent of the world crept into her hammock before she ever opened her eyes. The smell of wet cedar wood and salt. The soft sweetness of cedar too long at sea and then the bright briny salt smell of the sea itself. She opened her eyes and looked up. A sliver of purple twilight peaked through the canvas of the hammock, wrapped up around her. She craned her head back to look at the dark brown mast, crusted with salty white patterns that looked like the drawings of snowflakes in Papa's big book, which was wrapped carefully in walrus leather and stored somewhere in the hold beneath the deck. 
 
 The wood creaked. Some of the salt blew loose. The water slapping the hull told her the waves were small. Her hammock, strung between mizzen mast and taffrail, swayed hardly at all. She lay without moving, trying to feel the boat as her father had taught her. She closed her eyes again. The boat was lifting and rolling slightly. They were moving with the current, but not as fast as the light swell rolling past them. At this latitude, this time of year, this close to shore, that would be south, as it had been for days now, although a swell moving south was called a northerly swell, which always mixed her up. 
 
@@ -214,7 +215,7 @@ The sail snapped like a whipped wet towel. That meant the wind was light. She li
 
 Birdie smiled in her hammock. She stretched, lifting her arm out to feel the air. It was still cool, though wet and heavy. The sodden heat would come even earlier today, as it had every day for the last week. They would make camp the next day, maybe the day after, Birdie reasoned. She pulled her head up out of the hammock to scan the deck.
 
-The tk was 52 feet from her bow sprite to aft rail where Birdie's hammock was tied. There were two masts, one just fore of midship and another in the cockpit at the rear, where the other end of her hammock was tied. Her father was vague about the boats origins, or at least how the tk came to be in her family. As Birdie understood it, she was built in a place called France, sailed into Danish waters where she ran aground. Her cargo was offloaded and she was abandoned to the waves. That was not Poseidon's plan though. The tides had pulled her back out to sea. And her father, who happened to be on watch on another ship had spied her. Sensing his chance, he'd woken two companions, sailed alongside her and the three trimmed the sails of their vessel, pointed her in the opposite direction and jumped ship for the new one.
+Delos was 62 feet from her bow sprite to aft rail where Birdie's hammock was tied. She was a gaff rigged Jamaican sloop. Built of strong cedar, sweet smelling. There were two masts, one just fore of midship and another in the cockpit at the rear, where the other end of her hammock was tied. Her father was vague about her origins, or at least how the Delos came to be in her family. As Birdie understood it, she was built in a place called Jamaica, sailed all the way to the coast of a place called France where she ran aground. Her cargo was offloaded and she was abandoned to the waves. That was not Poseidon's plan though. The tides had pulled her back out to sea. And her father, who happened to be on watch on another ship had spied her in the night. Sensing his chance, he'd woken two companions, sailed alongside her and the three trimmed the sails of their vessel, pointed her in the opposite direction and jumped ship for the new one.
 
 One of those companions, Tamba, a tall, powerfully man with skin so black it was almost blue, was walking toward Birdie. She hopped out of the hammock, her feet landing on the smoothly worn oak planking of the deck with a light thud. 
 
@@ -846,37 +847,49 @@ She stared out the flat horizon where the sky bled into the blue of the sea. Com
 
 ## Chapter 6: Fire
 
-It was mid afternoon by the time Papa rounded them up and set them about gathering grass and small sticks. He would light the kilns when the sun went down and he had a very precise mixture of grasses and wood of all sizes that was entirely in his head, but Lulu and Birdie and even Henri had long since learned which thing they needed more of just by glancing at the piles, which they kept separate. Grass, then oak, then walnut. Papa claimed that to get the most tar out of the roots, you needed the right temperature kiln and to get that you need the right combination of each wood, plus there was always some trickery with wind and venting. The secret was to get the wood hot, but control the flow of air so that it burned very slowly and under some pressure that caused it to give up the liquid sap that hid inside of it. This tar or pitch tricked out the base of the kiln into buckets which were then put in barrels and either used by ships that called on their camp, or sold to the shipyards in Charlestown.
+It was mid-afternoon by the time Papa rounded them up and set them about gathering grass and small sticks. He would light the kilns when the sun went down and he had a very precise mixture of grasses and wood of all sizes that was entirely in his head, but Lulu and Birdie and even Henri had long since learned which thing they needed more of just by glancing at the piles, which they kept separate. Grass, then oak, then walnut. Papa claimed that to get the most tar out of the roots, you needed the right temperature kiln and to get that you need the right combination of each wood, plus there was always some trickery with wind and venting. The secret was to get the wood hot, but control the flow of air so that it burned very slowly and under some pressure that caused it to give up the liquid sap that hid inside of it. This tar or pitch tricked out the base of the kiln into buckets which were then put in barrels and either used by ships that called on their camp, or sold to the shipyards in Charlestown.
 
-This year Papa had built three kilns, each used the side of a dune as its primary structure, reinforced with a layer of split logs, and then packed earth and then packed clay. The other side was built up of logs and earth until a conical shape was formed and then the whole thing was filled with clay. For days Lulu, her father, and Kobayashi had hauled the rich red clay of the banks upriver down to the beach and packed it into the kilns until they were smooth as glass. Then they little smoldering little fires to dry the clay and bake it hard. This took several days, but when it was done the kiln was ready to make pitch.
+This year Papa had built three kilns. Each used the side of a dune as its primary structure, reinforced with a layer of split logs, and then packed earth and then packed clay. The other side was built up of logs and earth until a conical shape was formed and then the whole thing was filled with clay. For days Lulu, her father, and Kobayashi had hauled the rich red clay of the banks upriver down to the beach and packed it into the kilns until they were smooth as glass. Then they lit little smoldering little fires to dry the clay and bake it hard. This took several days, but when it was done the kiln was ready to make pitch.
 
-Kobayashi and her father worked all the next day dragging last year's stumps to the kilns and took turns splitting them with the axe until all the roots had been neatly stacked. Tamba, her uncle, and Francis had gone inland to gather walnut logs in the wagon, while Lulu, Birdie and Henri gathered downed oak and stacked the grasses they had cut and dried several weeks before.
+Kobayashi and her father worked all the next day dragging last year's stumps to the kilns and took turns splitting them with the axe until all the roots had been neatly stacked. Tamba, her uncle, and Francis had gone inland to gather walnut logs in the wagon, while Lulu, Birdie and Henri gathered downed oak and stacked the grasses they had cut and dried several weeks before.Now they had everything neatly stacked and ready. 
 
-Now they had everything neatly stacked and ready. Lulu was chewing something Francis had brought back from his trip inland. A Mvskoke woman they'd run into far up river had given him a strip of partly dried spruce gum. Francis did not like it. "It's like eating a tree," he said. 
+Lulu was chewing something Francis had brought back from his trip inland. A Mvskoke woman they'd run into far up river had given him a strip of partly dried spruce gum. Francis did not like it. "It's like eating a tree," he said. 
 
-"Because you're eating a tree." He gave the rest to her. She enjoyed it. It *was* like eating a tree. And there was something wonderful about eating a tree. It gave her some of its huge spirit. Lulu could almost feel herself expand as she chewed, though she did wondered if the tree people minded her walking among them chewing up the flesh of one of their fellow trees. She asked an oak, but it just shrugged off a few leaves in the wind. Everything gets eaten eventually.
+Lulu thought that made sense. "You are eating a tree."
 
-Lulu wandered away from piles, deeper into the sandy hummock that separated their camp from the marsh adjacent the leeward side of the island. Edisto wasn't a very wide island. It was long and skinny. Not as long and skinny as Ocracoke Island  where they stopped on their trips north and south to provision and get the news about points further north or south, depending on which way they were headed, but long and skinny nonetheless. Edisto's marshy backside meandered for miles, as ribbons of the 
+He gave the rest to her. She enjoyed it. It *was* like eating a tree. And there was something wonderful about eating a tree. It gave her some of its huge spirit. Lulu could almost feel herself expand as she chewed, though she did wondered if the tree people minded her walking among them chewing up the flesh of one of their fellow trees. She asked an oak, but it just shrugged off a few leaves in the wind. Everything gets eaten eventually.
 
-The forest was a clutter of shadow and light. Lulu sat down on a log and watched the shimmering leaves dancing in the breeze high up in the tree tops. Everything was so different up there. She decided to climb up and have a closer look. She cast about for a suitable tree to climb. She was near the marsh, in a mostly oak and pine forest. She would liked to have climbed a pine, but there was nothing to hold onto, the trunks were bare well above her head. She settled an youngish oak that had a huge low limb she should get on and then make her way up it, to the trunk where another branch allowed her to pull herself up. She kept at this for a while, ignore the scrapes from rough bark and trying to not pay attention to how high up she was. It took her a good ten minutes but she manged to get high enough up that she was afraid, and could no longer drive the fear from her mind and continue. She made herself step up to the next branch, the last that seemed like it would support her. She sat down on it, and wrapped her other arm around the trunk and looked out over the canopy. She was higher than the tk's mast, she knew that because she'd been hoisted up it several times to fix things. The mast was 35 feet. She guessed she was forty feet up. High enough to see out over the tops of the trees anyway. She watched two squirrels who'd scolded her the whole way up retreat through the thin branches to the next tree over where they took up their scolding again until Lulu threw a nearby acorn at them and they took off for good. 
+Lulu wandered away from piles, deeper into the sandy hummock that separated their camp from the marsh adjacent the leeward side of the island. Edisto wasn't a very wide island. It was long and skinny. Not as long and skinny as Ocracoke Island  where they stopped on their trips north and south to provision and get the news, but long and skinny nonetheless. Edisto's marshy backside meandered for miles, as ribbons of the river traced their way through the flatlands.
 
-She watched an eagle circle the marsh, slowly, lazily, hardly ever beating its wings, just rinding the air like a boat. Lulu wished she could fly. That would be even better than sailing, to glide on the air and go and down with the thermals and drafts rather than be stuck on the ground, moving side to side across the water. Although that was fun too. She twisted her head to try to see if she could see the beach from up here, but there was another tree in the way. Just then the breeze kicked up again and Lulu felt the whole tree sway. 
+The forest was a clutter of shadow and light. Lulu sat down on a log and watched the shimmering leaves dancing in the breeze high up in the tree tops. Everything was so different up there. She decided to climb up and have a closer look. She cast about for a suitable tree to climb. She was near the marsh, in a mostly oak and pine forest. She would liked to have climbed a pine, but there was nothing to hold onto, the trunks were bare well above her head. 
 
-She wondered what it would be like to be up here in a storm, to ride the winds. She closed her eyes to enjoy the music of the leaves tinkling around her, mixing with the percussive clatter of palm fronds drifting up from somewhere below her. The tree smelled of a tonic of warm, wet wood, not unlike the tk, mixed with traces of scents coming off the marsh and farther off the sea. A briny mix of salt coming in undulating currents across the marsh to wave the leaves of her tree.
+She settled an youngish oak that had a huge low limb she should get on and then make her way up it, to the trunk where another branch allowed her to pull herself up. She kept at this for a while, ignore the scrapes from rough bark and trying to not pay attention to how high up she was. It took her a good ten minutes but she manged to get high enough up that she was afraid, and could no longer drive the fear from her mind and continue. 
 
-Birdie and her father loved the sea in a way that Lulu understood, but did not. She loved the wind. The wind is everything. The wind is everything it has ever touched. You could always smell the land from the sea. Whenever they were coming down the coast, any time the wind blew offshore Lulu could tell how far it was by how strong the scene of flowers. She assumed the opposite was true as well, that if she ever went far enough away from the sea, she would know just how far she had gone be how faint its tangled smell of salt and tk and tk and tk had become. It suddenly occurred to Lulu that she had never been far enough from the sea not to smell it. She knew the smell of land more as a stranger scenting exotic perfumes on the wind and reading them than she did of walking on it and losing herself on it. She resolved to one day walk inland far enough that she no longer smelled the sea and smell perhaps what other tales the wind had to tell as it passed over all those mountains and valleys and forests and deserts that lay between here and the infinite Lulu would walk toward. She sat swaying in her tree, planning grand expeditions to chase the sun around the world. She would cross the deserts, she would walk with lions, she would climb the mountains and stand on the peaks with her snowy leopard companion, and then she would say her goodbyes and journey deep into the jungle with her jaguar guide to see the lost cities of gold. Then she would say goodbye to her jaguar and walk again to the sea where she would build a boat and return home.
+She made herself step up to the next branch, the last that seemed like it would support her. She sat down on it, and wrapped her other arm around the trunk and looked out over the forest canopy. She was higher than the Delos' main mast, she knew that because she'd been hoisted up it several times to fix things. The mast was 35 feet. She guessed she was 50 feet up. High enough to see out over the tops of the trees anyway. She watched two squirrels who'd scolded her the whole way up retreat through the thin branches to the next tree over where they took up their scolding again until Lulu threw a nearby acorn at them and they took off for good. 
 
-The sun has already disappeared into the thickets of distant trees on the western horizon when she noticed for the first time that it was finally growing cooler. There was some almost imperceptible drop in the humidity, some deep part of her awareness noticed just slightly less sweat seeping out of her int he course of the day that trigger some unconscious part of her to conclude, that winter is nearly here. She shivered slightly at the thought and then made a mistake. She was thinking only of getting down, but to do so she had to look down and when she did, a hot flash of fear shot through her. She realized suddenly she was along in the forest, high in a tree. No one was coming to help her. It was possible they might hear her if she yelled loud enough, but it would be after dark before they found her and that would be worse. No, she realized, I am alone. I have to do this myself. She sat back down and gripped the trunk of the tree until she felt stable. She forced herself to breath deeply and slowing. She heard her father's voice in her head, count to four as you inhale, hold that breath while you count to four. Count to four as you exhale, count to four with your lungs empty. Slowly and steadily in and out. Lulu did this until she began to lose count and found that she was just breathing normally. She opened her eyes and looked down. The last rays of the sun had poked their way through the forest thickets to fall here and there on Lulu's tree. It seemed to her as she looked below—she was careful not to look down, but at the trunk just below her feet—that the light was illuminating a kind of path down the tree. She could see the irregularity of bark in startling detail, it began to form a pattern of moves in her head, knobs seemed to jump out at her and she moved her foot down to the first one, easing her wait onto it as she gripped a branch above her with both hands. She shifted her weight onto that foot and gently moved forward, off the branch where she'd been sitting. She was up and moving. Now she looked down again and saw the perfect branch just below her other foot. She stepped down. And down again, her arms finding the branches her feet had given up only moments before. She moved in a zig-zag pattern down the tree, using branches like a staircase, back and forth across the trunk, until she found herself back at the large branch she'd used to get up. She walked out on it, away from the trunk, balancing with her arms out, to where it very nearly touched the ground and then she vaulted off to the ground. 
+She watched an eagle circle the marsh, slowly, lazily, hardly ever beating its wings, just riding the air like a boat in the water. Lulu wished she could fly. That would be even better than sailing, to glide on the air, up and down with the thermals and drafts rather than be stuck on the ground, moving side to side across the water. Although that was fun too. She twisted her head to try to see if she could see the beach from up here, but there was another tree in the way. Just then the breeze kicked up again and Lulu felt the whole tree sway. 
+
+She wondered what it would be like to be up here in a storm, to ride the winds. She closed her eyes to enjoy the music of the leaves tinkling around her, mixing with the percussive clatter of palm fronds drifting up from somewhere below her. The tree smelled of a tonic of warm, wet wood, not unlike Delos after many days at sea, but here it mixed with traces of scents coming off the marsh, and farther off, from the sea. A briny mix of salt coming in undulating currents across the marsh to wave the leaves of her tree.
+
+Birdie and her father loved the sea in a way that Lulu understood, but did not. She loved the wind. The wind is everything. The wind is everything it has ever touched. You could almost always smell the land from the sea. Whenever they were coming down the coast, any time the wind blew offshore Lulu could tell how far away land was by how strong the scent of flowers. She assumed the opposite was true as well, that if she ever went far enough away from the sea, she would know just how far she had gone be how faded its tangled smell of salt and seaweed and damp wood and rotting kelp had become. It suddenly occurred to Lulu that she had never been far enough from the sea not to smell it. She knew the smell of land more as a stranger scenting exotic perfumes on the wind and reading them than she did of walking on it and losing herself on it. She resolved to one day walk inland far enough that she no longer smelled the sea and smell perhaps what other tales the wind had to tell as it passed over all those mountains and valleys and forests and deserts that lay between here and the infinite Lulu would walk toward. She sat swaying in her tree, planning grand expeditions to chase the sun around the world. She would cross the deserts, she would walk with lions, she would climb the mountains and stand on the peaks with her snowy leopard companion, and then she would say her goodbyes and journey deep into the jungle with her jaguar guide to see the lost cities of gold. Then she would say goodbye to her jaguar and walk again to the sea where she would build a boat and return home.
+
+The sun has already disappeared into the thickets of distant trees on the western horizon when she noticed for the first time that it was finally growing cooler. There was some almost imperceptible drop in the humidity, some deep part of her awareness noticed ever so slightly less sweat seeping out of her in the course of the day and that triggered some unconscious part of her to conclude, that winter is nearly here. She shivered slightly at the thought and then made a mistake. She was thinking only of getting down, but to do so she had to look down and when she did, a hot flash of fear shot through her. 
+
+She realized suddenly she was alone in the forest, high in a tree. No one was coming to help her. It was possible they might hear her if she yelled loud enough, but it would be after dark before they found her and that would be worse. No, she realized, I am alone. I have to do this myself. 
+
+She sat back down and gripped the trunk of the tree until she felt stable. She forced herself to breath deeply and slowing. She heard her father's voice in her head, count to four as you inhale, hold that breath while you count to four. Count to four as you exhale, count to four with your lungs empty. Slowly and steadily in and out. Lulu did this until she began to lose count and found that she was breathing normally. She opened her eyes and looked around. The last rays of the sun had poked their way through the forest thickets to fall here and there on Lulu's tree. It seemed to her as she looked below—she was careful not to look down, but at the trunk just below her feet—that the light was illuminating a kind of path down the tree. She could see the irregularity of bark in startling detail. She began to form a pattern of moves in her head, knobs seemed to jump out at her and she moved her foot down to the first one, easing her weight onto it as she gripped a branch above her with both hands. She shifted her weight onto that foot and gently moved forward, off the branch where she'd been sitting. She was up and moving. Now she looked down again and saw the perfect branch below her other foot. She stepped down. And down again, her arms finding the branches her feet had given up only moments before. She moved in a zig-zag pattern down the tree, using branches like a staircase, back and forth across the trunk, until she found herself back at the large branch she'd used to get up. She walked out on it, away from the trunk, balancing with her arms out, to where it very nearly touched the ground, and then she vaulted off to the ground. 
 
 She turned back and looked at the tree, up at where she'd been. The light was gone now, twilight spread evenly through the forest, turning everything a soft gray that made it hard to tell where tree ended and sky began. "Thank you." she said to the tree. 
 
-The smell of simmering boar reached her well before she got to camp. She found her siblings sitting near the fire where she joined them and listened to the grown ups talk. It was dark in the east, stars were out on the horizon. 
+The smell of simmering boar reached her well before she got to camp. Her father was busy getting ready for the kiln ceremony, if he'd noticed she was gone, he did not say anything. Her siblings too did not seem to have noticed her absence. They were sitting near the fire. Her Aunt Māra looked long and carefully at her as Lulu walked by her, but she did not say anything. She joined her siblings and cousins by the fire and sat down. They listened, bored,waiting for the stew, as the grown ups talked and seemed to do everything but get food. Lulu did not realize how hungry she was. Her hands shook slightly when she didn't keep them wrapped around her legs. It was dark in the east, stars were out on the horizon. 
 
-Then her father stepped toward the fire and raised his hands. Everyone fell silent. "Friends," he began. "Thank you for being here with me." He paused. Lulu looked around the fire at all the faces flickering warm and orange in the firelight and she realized everyone she loved was here in one place, at one time, it did not happen all that often and it made it even better when it did. She felt a wave of warmth pass over her, noting in passing that it washed over her much like the fear had passed through her earlier in the tree. Emotions always move like waves, and we ride on them. We can't change the wave, but we can control how we ride it and where it takes us.
+Finally her father stepped toward the fire and raised his hands. Everyone fell silent. "Friends," he began. "Thank you for being here with me." He paused. Lulu looked around the fire at all the faces flickering warm and orange in the firelight and she realized everyone she loved was here in one place, at one timer It did not happen all that often and it made it even better when it did. She felt a wave of warmth pass over her, noting in passing that it washed over her much like the fear had passed through her earlier in the tree. Emotions always move like waves, she thought. You just have to ride on them. Maybe you can't change the wave, but maybe you can control how you ride it and where it takes you.
 
-Her father turned toward the sea and with both her arms still raised over his head, "Hekas, hekas! Este bebeloi!" His voice vibrated as he spoke and Lulu felt the words move through her, vibrating her blood with a tingling sensation that faded slowly as the sounds of the night became louder. He again vibrated the words and again let the sounds of the night once more return. He then spoke in a language neither Lulu nor her sister knew, but which somehow seemed ancient, as if it had been born millenia ago around fires just like this. It was guttural and strange in way that was both thrilling and a little frightening. Lulu knew what it all meant because her father had finally told her last year, but she still could not match the sounds she heard to the meaning in English and trying to do so made her head swirl in a confusion of noise and sense and meaning until she could feel more than she could understand.
+Her father turned toward the sea and with both her arms still raised over his head, "Hekas, hekas! Este bebeloi!" His voice vibrated as he spoke and Lulu felt the words move through her, vibrating her blood with a tingling sensation that faded slowly as the sounds of the night became louder. 
 
-Tamba took a large stick out of the fire and went to each of the quarters in turn. First the East, then the south, then the west, then the north and then back to the east. At each stop he called on the archangel, the arkangelsk, of that station, offering a bowl of water to each. When he was finished he handed the stick, with its glowing red tip to her father. 
+He again vibrated the words and again let the sounds of the night once more return. He then spoke in a language neither Lulu nor her sister knew, but which somehow seemed ancient, as if it had been born millenia ago around fires like this. It was guttural and strange in way that was both thrilling and a little frightening. Lulu knew what it all meant because her father had finally told her last year, but she still could not match the sounds she heard to the meaning in English and trying to do so made her head swirl in a confusion of noise and sense and meaning until she could feel more than she could understand.
+
+Tamba took a large stick out of the fire and went to each of the quarters in turn. First the East, then the South, then the West, then the North and then back to the East. At each stop he called on the archangel, the arkangelsk, of that station, offering a bowl of water to each. When he was finished he handed the stick, with its glowing red tip to her father. 
 
 Her father then nodded to Aunt Māra who went to the kettle of simmering stew. He handed her a bowl and she ladled some stew into it and gave it back to him. Lulu's father lifted the bowl in the air, the abalone shell glittered and sparkled in the moon light and not for the first time Lulu thought how lucky she was to be surrounded by such wealth, bowls that shone like gold in the light. "Uriel, bless this earth, bless this bounty we give back to you that you might bless these fires. Thank you for you love." He carried the bowl over and set it down on the first kiln. He repeated this incantation twice more until all three kilns had bowls atop them. Then he laid the stick to the dry grass that Lulu and her siblings had gathered over the past week. Lulu watched as he lit each of the kilns in turn.
 
@@ -890,15 +903,15 @@ Everyone cheered and Birdie, always the hungry one, jumped up and was first in l
 
 The next morning the smell of wood smoke and the faintly sweet scent of tar overwhelmed their camp. Lulu was watching the kilns while she ate, making sure the buckets below them were not too full so that they would be impossible to carry. She was not allowed to actually handle the hot tar. No one but her father and Tamba moved the buckets to the oak barrels, which, when full, were allowed to cool and then Lulu and her sister could hammer on the lids. No one had ever been burned too badly, though her father had once scalded his hand badly enough that the skin had come off. He made sure that the children did not handle the sap until it had cooled.
 
-Lulu didn't need to be told twice. The hot tar scared Lulu. It was a fiercely hot, red-brown liquid that boiled and bubbled and almost seemed to snarl in the buckets. It smelled of the forest somehow, like the distilled essence of a tree now made so dense that all the complex smells of the forest, the light smell of living leaves, the floral scent of flowers, earthiness of bark, the soil, the dry leaves, the rotting wood, the mushrooms and lichens and fungus were all condensed down to a single point that was all of them and somehow none of them as well. It was a deep smell, plumbed out of the depths of the earth, too deep, too much all at once. 
+Lulu didn't need to be told twice. The hot tar scared Lulu. It was a fiercely hot, red-brown liquid that boiled and bubbled and almost seemed to snarl in the buckets. It smelled of the forest somehow, like the distilled essence of a tree made so dense that all the complex smells of the forest, the light smell of living leaves, the floral scent of flowers, earthiness of bark, the soil, the dry leaves, the rotting wood, the mushrooms and lichens and fungus were all condensed down to a single point that was all of them and somehow none of them as well. It was a deep smell, plumbed out of the depths of the earth, too deep, too much all at once. 
 
-Lulu did not like the smell of it until the far had been spread on the rigging or hull of a ship. Something about the way it mixed with the salt soaked wood and hemp lines of a ship took the edge off the smell of the tar and made it smell pleasant again, like the forest standing at the edge of the sea.
+Lulu did not like the smell of it until the tar had been spread on the rigging or hull of a ship. Something about the way it mixed with the salt soaked wood and hemp lines of a ship took the edge off the smell of the tar and made it smell pleasant again, like the forest standing at the edge of the sea.
 
-What she liked even less than the smell was the heat. Sweat dripped off the end of her nose as she ate. Working the kilns was a constant sweat bath. She sweated gathering wood in the stagnant air of the hummocks around the marsh, sweated while she fed more wood into the kilns, sweated as she sat in camp, doing nothing more than eating. Sweating was simply part of life while the kilns were burning. Even the ocean was no great relief. For the past two days a warm current had made the shallows nearly as warm as the air. It was Lulu's least favorite part of the year, making the Arkhangelsk tar, but she knew it was also the most important part of the year. She often thought the only thing that would make it worse would be having to tan hides while tending the kilns. She never complained about working the kilns or gathering wood though. She did however, complain plenty about tanning hides. Who didn't? It was a smelly boring business rubbing brains all over a hide and scrapping the fur off. This was how she made it through making tar, by telling herself over and over again, at least there were no hides to tan. It's the little things that get you through.
+What she liked even less than the smell of the tar was the heat. Sweat dripped off the end of her nose as she ate. Working the kilns was a constant sweat bath. She sweated gathering wood in the stagnant air of the hummocks around the marsh, sweated while she fed more wood into the kilns, sweated as she sat in camp, doing nothing more than eating. Sweating was simply part of life while the kilns were burning. Even the ocean was no great relief. For the past two days a warm current had made the shallows nearly as warm as the air. It was Lulu's least favorite part of the year, making the Arkhangelsk tar, but she knew it was also the most important part of the year. She often thought the only thing that would make it worse would be having to tan hides while tending the kilns. She never complained about working the kilns or gathering wood though. She did however, complain plenty about tanning hides. Who didn't? It was a smelly boring business rubbing brains all over a hide and scrapping the fur off. This was how she made it through making tar, by telling herself over and over again, at least there were no hides to tan. It's the little things that get you through.
 
 The sun was directly overhead when her father and Tamba returned from a barrel run. As soon as the previous day's tar was cool enough to move they secured it deeper into the marsh. It was unlikely there would be another storm this year, but her father was never a man to take chances on the weather. 
 
-He nodded at her as he entered camp. Papa was a quiet man, prone to grunts and nods in lieu of the sort of comforting, I heard you type of comments most people make. He was often absorbed in a task to the degree that he seemed utterly unaware of the world around him and yet sometimes Lulu would notice that he was also watching her, watching her sister and not in fact missing anything that was going on around him at all, that he was in fact more aware of what she was doing than she was. She would pause and think about this sometimes and try to focus herself more fully on what she was doing, if she sould not take in the whole world around her like her father she could at least, she reasoned, pay closer attention to what she was doing.
+He nodded at her as he entered camp. Papa was a quiet man, prone to grunts and nods in lieu of the sort of comforting, I heard you type of comments most people make. He was often absorbed in a task to the degree that he seemed utterly unaware of the world around him and yet sometimes Lulu would notice that he was also watching her, watching her sister and not in fact missing anything that was going on around him at all, that he was in fact more aware of what she was doing than she was. She would pause and think about this sometimes and try to focus herself more fully on what she was doing. If she could not take in the whole world around her like her father she reasoned, she could at least pay closer attention to what she was doing.
 
 "Lu, you look pale." He said finally. "Here, drink some water." Her father passed her a gourd and she gulped down the cool water. She had not realized how thirsty she was until she started drinking and then she could not stop. She finished the gourd gasping for breath.
 
@@ -908,11 +921,9 @@ He nodded at her as he entered camp. Papa was a quiet man, prone to grunts and n
 
 "You can go now. Tamba and I will take over here."
 
-Lulu smiled and dashed off before he could change his mind. She knew Birdie and Henri were down at the ship. She found them playing with their cousins. Or rather Birdie and Francis were playing one game and Henri and Owen appeared to be playing another, which included harrassing them with toy arrows, a volley of which appeared just as Lulu was climbing up into the ship. "hey" she shouted as one actually stuck into the wood deck near her foot. She grabbed it. The tip was a shell that had been broken to a point and sharpened. It could easily have split the skin if fired with sufficient force. The closer she looked at it the madder she got. "That could have hurt." She leaned over the railing looking for Owen. She knew Henri hadn't came up with this plan. He might be annoying some times, but he was nearly always kind and never dangerous. There was no sign of either of them. She descended below decks to find Birdie and Francis.
-
-are birdie and francis making out? are they playng doctor or something? Or are they just down there making plans to go after henri and owen? Or did Henri abandon owen and come over to their side. 
+Lulu smiled and dashed off before he could change his mind. She knew Birdie and Henri were down at the ship. She found them playing with their cousins. Or rather Birdie and Francis were playing one game and Henri and Owen appeared to be playing another, which included harassing Birdie and Francis with toy arrows, a volley of which appeared as Lulu was climbing up into the ship. "hey" she shouted as one actually stuck into the wood deck near her foot. She grabbed it. The tip was a shell that had been broken to a point and sharpened. It could easily have split the skin if fired with sufficient force. The closer she looked at it the madder she got. "That could have hurt." She leaned over the railing looking for Owen. She knew Henri hadn't came up with this plan. He might be annoying some times, but he was nearly always kind and never dangerous. There was no sign of either of them. She descended below decks to find Birdie and Francis.
 
-Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see a strange dark shape wiggling up under a hole near the sand in the stern. Lulu could not tell who it was and started toward it. It was only then that she noticed Birdie in her periferial vision, sitting on the ground, carving a stick with the knife her father hand given her for Christ Mass last year. Lulu did not acknowledge her sister though, padding softly past toward the stern where the shape had clearly made its way into the boat now. Lulu stopped and slid against a bulkhead to wwait. The figured dusted the sand off itself and began to creep forward. Lulu heard a whispered "Birdie?" just as Henri walked through the bulkhead, past her, without seeing her, and Lulu let out a wild howl and leaped on him, tackling him to the sand. He shrieked and covered his face and before Lulu could properly box his ears he was crying and she felt bad so she stopped, sitting astride him, pinning his shoulders to the ground, she leaned close to his face. "That arrow could have hurt someone."
+Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see a strange dark shape wiggling up under a hole near the sand in the stern. Lulu could not tell who it was and started toward it. It was only then that she noticed Birdie in her peripheral vision, sitting on the ground, carving a stick with the knife her father hand given her for Christ Mass last year. Lulu did not acknowledge her sister though, padding softly past toward the stern where the shape had clearly made its way into the boat now. Lulu stopped and slid against a bulkhead to wait. The figured dusted the sand off itself and began to creep forward. Lulu heard a whispered "Birdie?" just as Henri walked through the bulkhead, past her, without seeing her, and Lulu let out a wild howl and leaped on him, tackling him to the sand. He shrieked and covered his face and before Lulu could properly box his ears he was crying and she felt bad so she stopped, sitting astride him, pinning his shoulders to the ground, she leaned close to his face. "That arrow could have hurt someone."
 
 "I know," he started crying again. "That's why I snuck away."
 
@@ -926,7 +937,7 @@ Birdie watched them but did not say anything.
 
 Henri nodded. "I came to make sure Birdie was okay, and to help her."
 
-Lulu glanced up and for the first time realized that Birdie was carving a spear. Not the sort of toy spear they used for pretend fishing when the Arkhangelsk was sailing the sands, but a real spear, of the sort she used for real fishing when the surf was calm and the tk would run close in to shore.
+Lulu glanced up and for the first time realized that Birdie was carving a spear. Not the sort of toy spear they used for pretend fishing when the Arkhangelsk was sailing the sands, but a real spear, of the sort she used for real fishing when the surf was calm and the Snapper ran close in to shore.
 
 "You going fishing?"
 
@@ -948,14 +959,14 @@ Lulu and Henri looked at each other. "Okay," said Lulu nervously. Well, why don'
 
 "I'm not playing." 
 
-"Okay, whatever. Let's just go before you hurt someone." Lulu loved her sister but she was prone to blind rages that were best avoided. Sometimes Lulu could talk her out of them, but usually, she'd learned, the best course of action was to find something Birdie liked to do and try to get her to do it. She was single-minded and once her mind had latched onto something everything else was forgotten. Even the previous thing her mind had been latched onto, like murderous desire to throw spears at her cousin. Lulu had become quite good an managing these rages, unless they happened to be aimed at her, in which case there was little she could do buy run. Or hope that Henri could calm her down, which he was getting better at doing. At least he no longer egged her on, or not very often anyway.
+"Okay, whatever. Let's just go before you hurt someone." Lulu loved her sister but she was prone to blind rages that were best avoided. Sometimes Lulu could talk her out of them, but usually, she'd learned, the best course of action was to find something Birdie liked to do and try to get her to do it. She was single-minded and once her mind had latched onto something everything else was forgotten. Even the previous thing her mind had been latched onto, like murderous desire to throw spears at her cousin. Lulu had become quite good an managing these rages, unless they happened to be aimed at her, in which case there was little she could do but run. Or hope that Henri could calm her down, which he was getting better at doing. At least he no longer egged her on, or not very often anyway.
 
 Lulu stood up. "Can I see it?" 
 
 Birdie handed her the spear, and Lulu knew she'd won. She was glad too because the point on the spear, combined with the way Birdie could throw it, would have gone right through Owen if he'd run afoul of it. It was then that Lulu noticed the dark spot on Birdie's leg. 
 
-They hit you with an arrow?
-
+"They hit you with an arrow?
+"
 Birdie nodded. All at once Lulu could see the streaks on her cheeks and realized that Birdie wasn't mad, she was sad. And hurt. "Sorry," Lulu offered. "Does it hurt?"
 
 "No. Not anymore."
@@ -972,6 +983,48 @@ Lulu sat down next to her sister. Henri slumped down into the sand and busied hi
 
 This time, after they all fell silent, Henri looked up from a drawing he had made. "You can call back an arrow you know. You just have to tie a string around it before you shoot it."
 
+## Ann Fulford
+
+The kiln fires burned for nearly a full cycle of the moon. The children tended the fires, Tamba, Kobayashi, and Papa tended the tar. There was still time to play, time to fish, time to climb trees, wade through the marsh in search of bird eggs, and time to sit around the fire at night listening to stories. Birdie and Lulu fished the bank whenever they could. There was a barrel half full of dried fish carefully stowed in Delos' hold to trade when they went to Charlestown. 
+
+Still, that month, the month the tribes around them called Last moon of the Turtles, nearly everything revolved around the fires, around the kilns, around the tar. The fires never went out, the slow trickles of sap never stopped trickling out the bottom of the kilns, filling the barrels even while they slept. Just like on overnight passages they kept watch through the night, emptying the buckets into barrels by torchlight at all hours of the night. Even when they were out on the bank fishing, there was a thin wisp of smoke drifting out of the trees at the southern end of the island to remind them what was waiting when they got home.
+
+It was that smoke that drew the ship to them and forever changed the course of all their lives. 
+
+Birdie was the first to see it. She'd been on the north end of the island, helping Aunt Māra weave new reed baskets when she saw a patch of white on the horizon. She and her Aunt watched the ship work her way down the coast. Long before she'd come close enough to really study Birdie had decided her captain wasn't to be trusted. The sails were not trimmed like they should have been and her course wasn't nearly what it should have been. The closer she got the more Birdie began to wonder if maybe the captain wasn't bad so much as unwilling to get more than swimming distance offshore. She wasn't much of a ship. She wasn't far from joining the Arkhangelsk. Birdie could tell she'd once been a Bermuda sloop with a long bowsprit. Narrower than the Arkhangelsk, and smaller than Delos, she was missing her bowsprit entirely and her sails were torn. Her real trouble though looked to be that she'd been made of oak, rather than the Jamaican cedar used for Delos. Oak was a strong wood, but it did not last like cedar. It needed to be tarred more regularly, the worms that ate at ship's loved oak and this vessel showed it. She was riding low in the water and Birdie could tell she was probably taking on water faster than her crew was able to keep it out. That made her a good business proposition. Birdie and Aunt Māra build up their fire and then Birdie cut green fronds of sago palm to put on the top, sending thick white smoke billowing in to the air.
+
+At the same time Birdie ran to the other end of the island to fetch her father. By the time they returned the ship was nearly at the mouth of the river. Her father waded out on the point and waved his arms down the beach. Though they could not make out anyone on the deck, the little boat pointed off shore and began to head out around the bank. Birdie and her father walked slowly down the beach, keeping pace with her as she made her way south to the safer anchorage of the southern river, just beyond where Birdie's camp lay, waiting with it's fresh tar. 
+
+As they walked her father pointed out the ships weaknesses and strengths. He agreed she was riding low, but he wasn't sure it was because she was leaking. "It's possibly," he allowed, "but she could have a heavy cargo too."
+
+Birdie studied her for the minute. "I don't think so. She's old, she's worm eaten, who would load her down?"
+
+Her father smiled. "That's good observation, but never underestimate a merchant's ability to let greed cloud their better judgment. She may be hardly seaworthy, but many a man would still load her full of gold if the gold needed moving."
+
+"Why?"
+
+Her father's smile faded. "I don't really understand it Birdie, tis the way the world is right now. It's been different before, it'll likely be different again one day, but for now, love of gold is thing we must account for." 
+
+A gust of wind blew his beard apart like the forked tail of a swallow and he gathered it back in his hands and stopped. "We don't though Birdie. We never to things for the love of gold. The love of people, the love of ships, the love of the sea. Always things that will return our love. Gold does not return love. There is nothing wrong with it, it is a fine metal, a grand reflection of the sun, but it is not a thing to work for, not a thing to worship. That is not the way of our people."
+
+Birdie did not say anything, but she nodded to let her father know she'd heard him. She still didn't understand why people wanted gold so much. They wanted great piles of it, and for what? It wasn't comfortable to sit on, you could not eat it. You could buy food it with it. Flour was nice, Birdie liked flour for bread. She especially liked it when Kobayashi helped her fry little cakes in the pan. But it did not take much gold to buy flour. It seemed to her that you could get enough gold to buy a year's worth of flour in not much time at all. After that, why would you need it? You could make almost everything you could possibly need. Except maybe rope. Making rope was a pain. Birdie decided she would have to try getting some gold to see which was harder, getting gold or making rope. If getting gold was easier then perhaps she could understand why you'd go out and get some gold, so you didn't have to make cordage.
+
+The little ship's captain was savvy enough at least to navigate the mouth of the inlet without too much trouble. He'd been lucky with timing, arriving with the rising tide and riding it it up the river mouth without trouble, until he'd promptly run aground on a sandbar. The ship came lurching to a halt just as Birdie and her father, along with Tamba, who'd strapped on a sword, came up over a dune. There was no one on the deck, which was confusing because surely someone had been steering. And then they watched a man come up out of the hold with a dazed look on her face.
+
+He smiled and waved. Birdie and her father glanced at each other. Her father shrugged and waved back. Birdie did the same. As they all stood smiling at each other there came a new sound from down in the hold, a light floating Irish lilt of a voice, a woman's voice that sounded like a song, but a bawdy, rough sailor's song of full of cussing, drinking, and fighting worked its way merrily forward somewhere below deck. And then a streak of gray came bounding out of the hold, landed softly on deck, and paused to survey the scene. Lulu came up the dune at the same time and bumped into Birdie just as the red hair of the stranger settled from under a hat to reveal one of the more striking faces Lulu and Birdie would ever see, albeit, barely see. A fair and sharply defined jaw, with thin red lips curled ever so slightly into a smile, extended out of the shadow that held the rest of her face in darkness from which Birdie could see only a white glimmer of eyes. The woman, for she was very obviously a woman, though she wore sailors britches, stiff and tarred like those her father, Tamba, Kobayashi, and nearly every other sailor on the sea wore, had on a long coat despite the heat, unbuttoned but held close to her waist by a sash much like the one Lulu was fond of wearing at sea, except that the woman had a hatchet and a pistol thrust into hers. 
+
+She said something they couldn't here to the man, and a third man came up out of the hold and waved. The woman pulled out a knife and deftly sliced a tk stay rope. Bridie instinctively glanced at her father. He raised an eyebrow but otherwise seemed just as transfixed as she was. Before Birdie could fully put together what was happening the woman backed up took two quick steps forward, vaulted up off the gunwale and sailed out into the air, riding the arc of the rigging up and out until she was very nearly clear of the water at which point she let go, arched her back and landed, knees bent, crouched like a cat, hand on her hatchet. 
+
+Birdie saw out of the corner of her eye that Tamba and her father were both staring now, open mouthed. "Not the first time she's done that," her father muttered. Then he seemed to gather his wits again and slid down the dune they were standing on to greet the stranger.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
 ### Campfire Talk
 
 There was a day, just before the moon that would mark the equinox, when the heat broke. Everyone knew it would return again at least once more, but for a few short days, it was deliciously cool and the breeze came inland in the afternoons. The sago palm fronds clattered in the wind, a clicking ticking sound like the women's shoes on the plank sidewalks of Charlestown.