are postholes. When a post
rots in the ground, it's similar to having been burned
and it leaves a dark stain. Sometimes we even find a
small core of wood"
"Don't trees do the same thing?"
"Yes. That's why we cross-section some of them.
The cross-section of a posthole is bullet shaped. The
cross-section of a tree shows dark stains of the roots
leading from the trunk."
The sheriff nodded.
"If you notice. the posthole pattern makes a square
with rounded corners"
"Yeah, I see that."
"They built the houses in that shape. After putting
up the posts, they wove sticks and grass between them
and covered it all with clay. We call the process wattle
and daub. They usually made a timber and thatched
roof. As we excavate, we'll find domestic artifactspotsherds, stone tools, stuff that indicates it was a
dwelling."
Lindsay pointed to an excavation beyond Structure
4. "That structure over there was burned. All that black
charcoal-looking stuff on the floor is the remains of
the roof timbers. If we're lucky, the house burned accidentally, and all the domestic artifacts are there under
the timbers where they were in use. That gives a lot of
information."
"Not too lucky for the people who owned the
house. Just who were these people?" the sheriff asked.
"That's a good question. The site is not far outside
the area that archaeologists have defined as the Chiefdom of Coosa, dating to the sixteenth century. We're
finding some of the same type of artifacts, and the settlement pattern is the same. But we're finding other
types of artifacts, too. Frank thinks this is a different
component of the Coosa chiefdom. Ned, however,
thinks they are a different group that traded with the
chiefdom but were not part of them. He thinks they
were part of a more isolated group"
"I see," said the sheriff, who apparently had been
satisfied with simply a name and a date. "That'd be
Ned Meyers`?"
Lindsay nodded.
"I remember him when he was a little kid. Spent
his summers with his grandparents, the Hardwicks. Quiet little kid, always going around looking for
arrowheads"
"Yes, that's him."
Frank came over and held out his hand, and the
sheriff grabbed it. "Lindsay giving you a tour of the
site?"
"Yeah, interesting." They walked away from the
crew before the sheriff spoke again. "Lindsay tells me
that your crew can make a thorough examination of
the place where we found the bones of the little Hastings girl."
"Yes."
"How long would it take?"
"Perhaps a week or two. Probably a little longer."
"Can they start tomorrow morning?"
"Sure thing. Did Lindsay tell you about her find?"
asked Frank.
"Yeah. She really has a knack, doesn't she"
Lindsay opened her mouth to protest, then closed it
again.
That evening, Lindsay visited Derrick's tent across
from hers and found him packing his equipment. "I
hope you aren't too angry with me," she said.
Derrick grinned. "I guess you owe me."
Lindsay grinned back. "I guess I'm in trouble."
"Actually, I think it'll be interesting."
"I'm glad you see it that way." She sat down on the
end of his bed and watched him pack.
"Did you seriously think I would be mad at you?"
he asked.
Lindsay looked into Derrick's gentle brown eyes.
"Not really. I just hate involving anyone else in this."
"Maybe it would be easier for you if you had
someone else, like me, working with you"
"You're probably right."
"Does the sheriff have any idea who the bones in
23 belong to?" Derrick asked.
"No. He didn't get too excited about it, considering
its age. That's good for us. Maybe it won't make the
papers," Lindsay replied.
"You think whoever buried the body knew Indians
were buried here and thought a graveyard would be a
good place to hide a body, or was it a coincidence?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen any evidence of grave
robbing. I'm not sure anyone knew there were burials
here until we arrived."
"Funny thing, though, isn't it, a recent grave dug
right into an ancient burial