The Explorations of Dinah

Towards dusk, she was dressed in an old coverall and straw hat, out on her knees near the dock, when the canoes floated by again. The crew consisted of four young men and two young women, all with prominent sunburns. They looked tired and cranky, and were soaked to the knees in river water.

A man in one of the canoes saw her, called out and pulled over to the dock. "Hi there. Beautiful afternoon isn’t it? I ‘spect you’re wondering just what we’re doing."

His tone was jovial and ingratiating. Dinah took an instant dislike to him. "Not really, but you can tell me if you want."

"We’re archaeologists," he enunciated. "You know what that is, don’t you?"

Dinah bared her teeth and asked, "Look for dinosaurs, do you?"

"No no, not dinosaurs, people." The young man flapped his hand and one of the crew reached out and grabbed the pier and began tying up. "An archaeologist studies past cultures, you know, Indian campsites and villages and stuff. We’re looking for an important archaeological site. Susan here was looking through some old maps, and she discovered that when the first Spanish settlers came, there was an Indian village hereabouts." Susan looked modest. "The only thing we know about it is, it was near the junction of the Tombigbee and the Buckasipsey, and there was a grove of chestnut trees. We were wondering if you might let us investigate."

Dinah looked at the crew and decided. "Sure. Free country."

The man and his compatriots exited the canoes rather less than gracefully. He stuck out a grubby hand and introduced himself. "I’m Charles Gilchrest, I’m working on my MA from the University of Mississippi at Meridian; this is Susan Springer, she’s at Meridian, too. The others are undergraduate volunteers."

Susan shook Dinah’s hand. "What we’d like to do," said Gilchrest, "is perform a pedestrian survey, and shovel probe the woods along the river."

"He means we’re going to walk through your garden and maybe dig some holes over there in the woods, right, Charley?" said Susan.

He scowled at the woman, but said, "Oh, right."

He clearly couldn’t imagine she’d have any objections, but Dinah said firmly, "I would rather you didn’t dig holes in my property."

"Oh," he said. "Of course it’s your property." For the moment, his tone said. "Is it okay if we just walk around a bit?"

"Sure, help yourself."

The four crew members formed themselves into a neatly spaced row and marched back and forth over the lawn and into the woods on either side of the manicured lawn. "Depression!" shouted one of the volunteers. Charley and Susan hustled over and spent a few moments discussing it. "No, I don’t think so. Just a trick of the light. Or something historic maybe."

Dinah wondered at herself. Normally she loved to provide information to people, and the answer to their search was in the front room of the great house. "The man’s an idiot. The site’s recorded, the 1930s report should be at the University. Why didn’t this dolt do a records search? Or, worse, why don’t they ask me? Something? Anything? Don’t they teach them anything at graduate school any more?"

Dinah found herself inches from yanking out an old meandering morning glory vine. Charley and Susan walked within ten feet of her, wondering aloud that there weren’t any chestnut trees. Dinah muttered, "You ever hear of chestnut blight? Killed all the trees long long ago."