The judge's town car tears along the dirt road, bumping to a halt in the middle of a muddy field.
Pine trees rustle in the bluffs.
A snowy egret glides along a pond. Pine trees rustle in the bluffs. A snowy egret glides along a pond. But the judge's mind is racing back 136 years, to a time when the crackle of musket-fire flew across the meadow and the smell of gunpowder filled the air. A time when the ponderous Red River meandered through this spot, and gunboats struggled to navigate its shallow waters.