Moderate grumbling rose from several pacifists until John spoke. "Give me the list and the committee will review it. If we don't agree, we'll work with you for a solution."
I addressed the group, "Leave the chairs, please. I'd like all the folks who are leaving with my family to stay and discuss the initial impact of our move."
In minutes, most of the extremists stood and left. John, Martin Sr. and Morgan stood by a far stall to listen. Seventeen adults and some of the children sat in front of me.
"If after considering the full scope of this move we're undertaking any of you change your mind, I'll not think less of you."
There were several grins while others shook their heads. Evidently, they had thought of the pitfalls, accepted them and were committed.
"Tomorrow I'd like to start our search for a new home. Richard and Paige, are you available to be gone for three or four weeks? We'll pack clothes, food and other supplies for a month. I'll bring plenty of ammo for our weapons. As soon as it's light enough inside the barn to move the horses outside, we'll saddle up and leave. Those of you who are staying behind, please keep an eye on the armory and don't let anything happen to it. I have the only key to the locks and Kira knows where it's kept.
"Mitch, Suzie, Vince and Byron, please take the diesel pickup and a twenty-foot enclosed trailer to Fort Leonard Wood and load any remaining field rations, both Meals Ready to Eat and First Strike Rations. While you're there, sort through the military clothing and boots. They've already been thoroughly picked over by us and other groups over the past fifteen years, but salvage what's left. Take the time to explore any areas we might have overlooked for goods we can use. This will likely be our last trip there. There's no rush to head out, so do it at your discretion, but take everything we can use at the new site.
"Vince, we'll use all three rubber-tired wagons for the move. Will you please inspect them and insure they're ready for several trips of about fifty miles each way? Look at the hydraulic brakes you and Albert rigged up especially hard. We'll be loaded and using four horse 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 and become just a big valley.
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
