Chapter 1

It was the spring of 1862 and the early morning fog was starting to rise and burn off in the valley so you could see the budding trees and other plants coming awake after the long winter. This was the valley where young Joshua Kelly lived and he was hiding at his father's orders; he would have rather been standing in front of his home with the rest of the family. Josh watched as the raiders know as "The Bushwhackers" sat on their horses and confronted Josh's father. "I should be down there with them," Josh thought; only his father's instructions kept him from coming down from the hilltop overlooking the farm house and joining his family.

If he couldn't be with his family he planned to help protect them from his hiding place. Josh had a Sharps rifle trained on the man talking with his father; that the man was the leader of the gang. It was a long shot to make with a carbine but he was an excellent marksman and if the raiders started trouble Josh would try and take out their leader.

The Bushwhackers operated as a guerilla force during the Civil War, raiding in Missouri and Kansas along the border and the interior of these Border States. They were almost as well known as "Quantrill's Raiders who were southern sympathizers and made famous, maybe infamous is a better term, by the newspapers of both the Union and the Confederacy.

This outlaw gang would burn, steal, rape and murder in the name of their cause. It seemed their cause was to benefit themselves because they attacked both Union and Confederate forces and followers. If a Union supply train could be attacked and the goods stolen, the Bushwhackers would do it. The following week they would attack a Confederate supply depot. They were a band of outlaws hiding behind the confusion and violence taking place in Missouri, Kansas, and Arkansas during the Civil War.

John Fogerty was the leader of the group and was trying to intimidate the Kelly family members facing him and his gang of cutthroats. Josh's father, William, and his mother Molly stood on the front porch of the farmhouse facing the raiders; both were armed. Josh's 13 year old brother Samuel was in a front facing open window with a shotgun pointed at Fogerty. It was expected that William would be ready to fight to protect his family and farm but Fogerty hadn't counted on the two extra guns in the hands of Molly and Samuel.

"Where's that oldest boy of your'n Kelly? We need to talk at him a bit," Fogerty question Josh's father. He wasn't aware that the boy in question had a gun aimed at his back.

"That's my business and none of yours Fogerty. I'm thinking it's time for y'all to leave," William replied as he cradled his rifle in the crook of his arm. The weapon wasn't exactly pointed at the bandit chief but it wasn't far off.

"I'll leave when I'm ready Kelly. We got you outgunned so just put down your weapons and tell me what I want to know," Fogerty ordered.

"Yep, you've got more guns than us, but when the shootin' starts y'all be the first one killed," William told him. "We'll probably all die but I'll make sure that you go first. When we meet in Hell we can continue the fight there." Molly turned so that the double barreled shotgun she was holding was aimed in Fogerty's direction. The noise of Molly and Samuel cocking the twin hammers of their shotguns was a clear warning.

He thought it was a bluff but when he noticed the move that Molly made and also saw the other shotgun pointed at him through the front window, he wasn't as sure. The thing that made him back down was the look in the eyes of both William and Molly; it was the death stare.

Fogerty had seen that stare before in the eyes of the people fighting his gang when they raided other towns and farms in southeastern Missouri. It was a look that said "I know I'm dead but I'm going to take as many of you with me as I can"; it was a look of desperation and acceptance.

"I don't want no trouble Kelly; we just want your boy to join us. We lost some men last week and I'm recruiting from the farms around these parts. Figured you would want to help out the cause but I know you have to stay and run the farm so that leaves your boy," Fogerty explained as he tried to smooth over the earlier confrontation. "He can make a right nice bit of change to help with the cost of running your farm."

"What cause is that, Fogerty?" William asked already knowing the answer.

"The Confederacy of course. We make raids on Union troops and camps to help the South in this here war."

"Don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining Fogerty," William responded. "Just two weeks ago you attacked a Confederate supply wagon and killed six soldiers and the week before you robbed a Union payroll; y'all killed ten in that raid. Seems to me your cause is you and your killers getting rich off this war. Neither me nor my boy want your blood money." William stepped toward Fogerty a couple of steps and continued.

"Just so you know me and my family aren't in sympathy with either the Union or the Confederacy. My family and my brothers are what you would call neutral in this stupid war. We're going to go on faming and stay out of it, if we can. If we're forced to, we'll fight both sides. Now turn your horses around and get off my farm," William ordered as he pointed his rifle directly at Fogerty.

"You haven't heard the last from me Kelly, I'll be back," Fogerty blustered.

"That would be a bad choice on your part. Listen carefully Fogerty, if I see you on my farm again I will shoot you where you stand like the mad dog you are. I won't tell you to leave or warn you again, I'll just kill you and leave you for the varmints. That goes for any of the scum that ride with you too. Now get!"

Fogerty looked at William's eyes and believed what the man had told him. He knew that if Kelly caught him on his property again, that he would die. He turned his horse and rode away from the farm house with his gang following him. I'll come back and bushwhack that son of a bitch, Fogerty thought as he rode away. He was more adept at shooting a man in the back than facing him in a fair fight.

Josh watched the riders as they left the farm; then mounted his horse and followed them until they climbed out of the valley onto the trail toward town. He turned his horse and rode back home feeling a lot of pride in his father; standing there like a big oak tree facing down those Bushwhackers. Josh wasn't really surprised at his mother either, standing beside her husband when danger threatened; she was a very strong woman and in a lot of ways was the back bone of the family.

William was 6' 2" with a big frame and Molly was 5' 8" which was tall for a woman. Josh had his mother's features with dark almost black hair and blue eyes but he took his size from his father; he was 6' 1" with the same frame as his father's; he just hadn't fill out yet. He arrived home as Samuel was going out to do the evening milking; Samuel was still carrying the double barrel shotgun that he had held out the window. Josh waved at him and went into the house.

His father was oiling his rifle and the double barrel shotgun that Josh's mother had held on the raiders. William's rifle was a .44 caliber 16 shot Henry Repeater; it cost more than two month's wages and was his pride and joy. The shotgun that Molly used was a Remington Coach gun, as was the one that Samuel still had with him. The two 12 gauge shotguns were ones that William had bought before the war while working as a stagecoach guard.

When the war started, William decided he didn't want to be a target for any of the outlaws running crazy along the Border States. Many claimed to be guerilla fighters for either the Union or the Confederacy but a lot of them, like Fogerty's Bushwhackers were common thieves and murderers. William figured dead was dead no matter which side pulled the trigger so he decided to stay on the farm until the war was over.

Josh sat at the table with his father and began to oil his own rifle; a .52 caliber Sharps breech loading carbine. He had worked for his Uncle Jake on weekends for almost six months to pay for his rifle. Jake had bought a Henry Repeater like William's and offered the Sharps to Josh at a very good price. His father had offered to buy the weapon for him but Josh wanted to earn it himself.

Josh looked at his father for a few seconds and finally spoke. "I should'a been down here with you Pa. You or Ma could have been hurt; I shouldn'a been here to help," he said.

"If you had been here someone would have been hurt. Fogerty would have tried to force you to join them and your momma wouldn't have allowed that," William said with a little smile. "Neither would I. Understand?"

Josh nodded his head but still didn't like that he had been sent to hide while his family protected him. He understood the logic but emotionally he didn't feel it was right. A man should stand up for himself, he thought.

At 17 Josh was considered a man as were most young men living in the hill country of southeastern Missouri. By the time a lad reached 17 he was expected to do a man's work and help his family survive. The young men would work side by side with his father on the family farm or hire out to someone like a blacksmith; all to make it a little easier for his family.

The youngsters would continue doing this for years; most times even after finding a wife they would stay on the family farm and the family just got a little bigger. That was good because it meant another helper for the family. Sometimes another cabin was built nearby but usually the existing house had a room added on if need be.

Josh was no exception; he worked almost every day with his father in the fields and with the livestock. But sometimes he worked for other people in the area; even though it left the farm shorthanded, the money Josh made working outside of the farm was a tremendous help to the family. He had a unique talent for breaking, gentling, and training horses.

Got a high spirited horse or mule that's giving you trouble; bring the animal to Josh or have him come to your place. Usually in a few days the animal would be as obedient as a heel hound. Got an animal that you couldn't train; have Josh work with it for a few days and the animal would bust its tail doing what it was trained to do. Got a wild horse that needs breaking; hire Josh and he would break and train the animal without breaking its spirit. This talent was a money maker in an area where most of the hard labor was done by horses or mules.

There were a couple of times a year that Josh wasn't available to work his magic with animals; during spring planting or autumn harvest he was busy on the family farm. The rest of the year he was always willing to take an animal in hand and turn it into a working partner for its owner.

Josh's rates depended on the horse or mule, depended on how wild or how much training you wanted, and depended on the time necessary to do the job. He usually got a dollar a day working the animals; if the animal was extremely wild or difficult he would sometimes add a little to the final tally.

Josh seldom got less than 3 dollars per animal and sometimes he made as much as 15 dollars if the animal was hard headed. It was an unheard of amount of money for a youngster like Josh to make but his clients swore he was worth every penny.