3Dirty and tired, Clay left Fort Wool and rode into the small town of New Echota, Georgia. He’d pushed hard to get the information he’d gathered from the Indian Territory where his Choctaw tribe had been relocated to the leader of the Cherokee, Chief Ross. Clay needed a bath and sleep, but still had ten more hours of riding before he would arrive at the Cherokees’ newest council house in Red Clay, Tennessee.
The last time he’d been in New Echota, people had bustled along the carriage-rutted street, shopping and visiting with one another. The town had been brimming with life and laughter. Now, however, it resembled a ghost town. On the far edge of town, he stopped at a small farm owned by a long-time friend of Martin’s to trade his tired horse for a fresh one. After transferring his gear t
