And It Pleased God To Place Before Us a Greatte Repast, Indeed a Feast

Having landed upon the shore of the river called by us James, for our beloved King, and called by the Indians, Powhatan, for thier King, came a gaggle of Gentlemen,explorers, adventurers,and many of the lower sort of their landes. Some from the lands to the north, called by the natives there as Pennsylvania, Michigan, and New York. Some from the land of enchantment to the east, a land inhabited by the people of Chin, known to us as China. Others from lands to the west--strange,unknown places called in legends by exotic names such as the kingdom of Nebraska, a land called Iowa, and a mysterious land known only as Missourie--(a land that doth be of such strangeness that even the natives there spell it correctly not).

And there on the 25th day of November, in the year of our Lord, 2009 came said people to the land once know by the natives as Tsennacomacah, four miles west from the village once known as Mokete, a village visited by Capt. John Smith in the year of our Lord, 1608, from whence village he traded for much Indian Corn and took by stealth and force of arms, the young nephew of the Werowance (chief) of the people of Warrosquoyack.

In commemration of the feasting of our predecessors and in thankfullness to God who has blessed us with plenty; the explorers and adventurers from all such lands, both of the better and lesser sort, gathered yesterday at the principal site of Mill Swamp Indian Horses to dine on deer, rabbbit, quail, fish, oysters, clams, duck, along with a bit of the flesh of cattle, kine, and that of a young pork.

Said guests brought assorted dishes of vegetables and sweet dainties and bread made of the corn of the Indians. Young Masters KC and Christian, along with young maiden, Carley having spent the day constructing cooking racks of young saplings and roasting fish, fowl, and game the entire day;a great feast was had by all.

After the darkness had fallen upon us Maid Emily lead the younger riders into the pastures, all free of light, whereupon each took mount on a Spanish Horse and rode deep into the woods, often trotting for miles on end with out a break.

In the darkness the only sound was often the splash of gaited hooves in the swamp and mire of that which was once but a small part of Tsennacomacah. And how long had it been since the sound of Spanish hooves pierced the darkness of these swamps--was it three hundred years ago, or was it only yesterday?