The Tulip rounded a bend of the coast, revealing a small flotilla of sculling boats a quarter of a mile ahead. The boats moved slowly across the water as their passengers cast and retrieved nets.

Obviously, the island’s prisoners did not entirely place their faith in the delivery of food by the Tulip; the small fishing industry would supply much-needed food to add to the overall provisions delivered by the little ship. Robert nodded with satisfaction; this was something he would have done, refused to rely on the aid of others for survival.

Shifting course had slowed them even more; the Tulip moving no faster than a man could walk, affording Robert the opportunity to study the men in the fishing boats. Most of the uniforms were Confederate gray, but there were a few butternuts amongst them. Piping on uniforms ranged from red to blue and green, each color telling Robert the nature of these men’s military talent. What he saw were men captured from the Army of Virginia and from Vicksburg. Artilleryman, cavalrymen, and foot soldiers were on this island. There was possible Robert might recognize some of these men.

As the Tulip pushed through the small flotilla of fishers’ ribald comments and the crew of the brig and the prisoners’ traded laughter, they obviously knew each other well enough to joke good-naturedly. Had union guards not been standing on the aft deck, Robert might have thought this was a voyage to a southern port.

A bugle sounded from the forest to be followed by the faint roar of many men cheering.

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The ridge beyond the forest gained height and definition despite the growth of trees covering the hilltop. There seemed nothing to show human habitation beyond the presence of the fishers, yet Robert could now see traces of smoke from fires rising above the trees ahead.

Those trees formed a peninsula that the Tulip rounded with agonizing slowness, but once around the black rocks that tipped the peninsula, the forest stopped abruptly. Tree stumps cut by axe and saw littered the open area, suggesting an active logging industry. Several of the stumps were on fire, tended by a few prisoners who also waved at the Tulip.

Robert saw they were entering a small bay. At the far end of the bay, wooden A-frames and derricks seemed to move stone. Further up the hillside, small buildings randomly placed built more of earth than trimmed wood.

The small collection of huts worked their way up the shallow slope from the rocky shore. Two large, low stone buildings sat a few hundred feet from the lake near the crest of the ridge. Campfires dominated the ridge, but Robert could see no men at the fires. It appeared the stone materials found on the island possessed an odd red hue.

The north shore of the harbor was a stone breakwater constructed by the prisoners. The Tulip moved past the foundation of a lighthouse under construction at the end of the breakwater and entered the harbor proper under minimal sails. Wooden rafts, held in place by thick ropes, worked as both a pier and construction platforms while the prisoners use stone to give the quay an even face.

Men in southern uniforms crowded the shore, pier, and breakwater while more men were coming from further inland. Robert’s breath caught in his chest, his mouth opening slightly and eyes widening. There had to be over four thousand prisoners cheering the Tulip. The Mississippi soldiers aboard the Tulip would add another five hundred men to the number trapped on Coal Island.

What insanity suggested this many men could survive on an island?