What happened?
Some goon chased me from the brush, he hissed, and I fell in here.
My crew chief dragging the ladder. Took it to climb into another excavation.
I plop down, sand dribbling down into the brim of my panama hat. The sun drifting overhead was taking the coolness of the dark hole.
Why’re you digging?
We’re archaeologists.
No, why here?
Folks lived here for centuries; this knoll’s a great base camp for exploiting wetland resources.
Tell me about it. Lotta rats in that swamp. Why so deep?
Oh, the ceramic sequence. I had the whole thing from the Mississippian down through the Archaic. Now look, Saint Catherine’s and Stallings Island potsherds mixed-up here at the bottom. I’m confused.
Indeed. Probably a side effect of the venom.
Indeed, I agreed.
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