Posted: Sat Dec 20, 2003 11:08 pm Post subject: An old book, and a windy night...
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The wind is blowing on a winter's day. Clouds have obscured the skies
and no reports of any break in this for some days. It's time to pull a
book from the shelves and sit this out in comfort and relaxation. I
happened upon a book that I don't recollect where it came from. Strange,
I usually remember why I buy or get a book for. But this one had a
"catchy" title and well worn, hardback covers made me think of it being
a real barn burner of a tale(s). So I opened it under the light in my
easy chair and began a reading that took me far away into the past and
into the cold of another era where men were men and women tried to be.
Man's quick wit, pre-planning and desire to conquer the wilderness.
I'll type a few words from it and maybe you all will want to read it
too.
Title: Winter Storms and Summer Heat by Elijah Hunt Esq. Written in
1899 and published by Wolverine Press Cub, beginning on page 22:
"The winds have a way to send cold deep into the soul of man," stated
the older man seated next to the younger, burly gent setting by the fire
place.
"If yer wanting to get my place next to the fire go to hell!" said the
surly man in trapper furs who warmed his hands openly over the burning
coals.
"Now that is uncalled for you young rascal!"
The younger man merely leaned over a bit and farted.
"What do people call you?" asked the older man.
"Birch Bark Jack, and that is only when I want them to be nice to me!"
"Aw! I have heard of you. And, not all friendly." the older man said.
"My name is Meriwether. And I may have a proposal for thee."
"Women and liquor involved?"
Meriwether chuckled to himself and said," To be sure!"
"Speak on."
"I have plans to go back into some wild parts of these United States
and need a cook for my adventures and also someone who can lead the camp
in songs. I have heard of your repertation as a camp cook and song
leader. Would you consider this?"
"Maybe." The young Jack still looked into the flames and the winds
outside blew harder.
"But you must promise me one thing," Jack spoke.
"What is that?"
"I need a month's worth of scotch to make me through this storm."
"Fair enough!"
The two shook hands and Meriwether felt the tough hands of this young
trapper.
"There are others who will travel with us. One, a cook himself, will
attend to my personal meals. Your job is to keep the rest full and
happy."
"Tomorrow morning we shall gather at the table over there and you'll
meet some of those who will travel with us."
Jack only nodded.
A loud roar came from up the ladder and beyond the doors up there that
held four bedrooms for the weary travelers. It had been going on all
night, so far, and the others had grown accustomed to it. The RCMP's
very own man of the north, Constable Sparkey snored himself into
oblivion. His canoe, a slick bottom one without any roundness in its
bottom, was declared by him to offer better control on the bent rivers.
You may ask why a Canadian in this period of time. But please wait for
that answer as it will come to you later.)
Meriwether climbed the ladder to the upper loft and opened a door into
a comfortable room where bear skins laid across wooden frames and
supported by ropes made a fine bed to slumber in.
Birch Bark Jack reached over and grabbed the brown jug on the small
table and poured himself another drink.
Suddenly the door from outside opened and the snow blew fiercely into
the warm room. A man covered in furs and snow stomped in and after
closing the door brushed of the snow and grinned to Jack.
"Bear Ridge's mah name an' huntin' an' fishin mah game!" sez the cheery
man.
"Hump!"
Bear Ridge bent over to better see this man sitting by the fire and
stooped over. Bear's brows reached in to themselves and a frown appeared
on his forehead.
"I head that tharz a man hare who'd pay fer an edjew-kated person to
head into the' new territories. Iz hit so?" Bear asked.
"Upstairs," answered Jack.
Again the giant of a snore came.
"What the' Hell waz that!" cried Bear
"A Mounty with a slick canoe."
"Oh."
"Anyone else here?"
"Yeah. A fellow from around these parts who calls hisseff Merry
Weather."
"MMMMM. No one else?"
"No."
Calamidy Jean came out to see who had entered her establishment. Her
foods were known around these parts and she even went so far as to pack
many of a meal for the ones passing through.
"Hello. Can I help thee?" Jean asked.
"Yez ma'am. I needz a place to put up fer th' night."
"Good. I have one room left. That'll be one shilling worth. Supper
included."
"Fair enough!"
Bear counted out the coin from a sock he pulled from under the large
fur coat he wore. The aroma clashed with the smells of food in the
room.
"Second door on the right." Slipping the coin into a side pocket, she
asked, "You like de-hydrated elk with rice?"
Bear nodded affirmative to this.
"Ya'll wouldn't happen to have a bottle o' wine with out the' label?"
"Yes. It has a cork on it... no other way."
"Yep!" Bear cried with a grin on his face. He set about pulling the
cork off. POP! Off came the cork. Bear placed the neck to his lips and
began to chug. After a heavy draw on the bottle, Bear wiped his mouth
with the cuff of his fur coat and grinned ear to ear.
Jean placed a plate of elk with rice four times what the average man
would or could eat. Bear looked at it and smiled wider.
Jean sat down by the fire and began to ponder if she could get the
local Indians to make her botas for the trekkers passing through.
So the night went. Sometime around mid night the little group went
their separate ways into their respective beds to sleep this wintry
night through.
I'll get chapter three soon.... swampy
_________________
What instructions?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind is blowing on a winter's day. Clouds have obscured the skies
and no reports of any break in this for some days. It's time to pull a
book from the shelves and sit this out in comfort and relaxation. I
happened upon a book that I don't recollect where it came from. Strange,
I usually remember why I buy or get a book for. But this one had a
"catchy" title and well worn, hardback covers made me think of it being
a real barn burner of a tale(s). So I opened it under the light in my
easy chair and began a reading that took me far away into the past and
into the cold of another era where men were men and women tried to be.
Man's quick wit, pre-planning and desire to conquer the wilderness.
I'll type a few words from it and maybe you all will want to read it
too.
Title: Winter Storms and Summer Heat by Elijah Hunt Esq. Written in
1899 and published by Wolverine Press Cub, beginning on page 22:
"The winds have a way to send cold deep into the soul of man," stated
the older man seated next to the younger, burly gent setting by the fire
place.
"If yer wanting to get my place next to the fire go to hell!" said the
surly man in trapper furs who warmed his hands openly over the burning
coals.
"Now that is uncalled for you young rascal!"
The younger man merely leaned over a bit and farted.
"What do people call you?" asked the older man.
"Birch Bark Jack, and that is only when I want them to be nice to me!"
"Aw! I have heard of you. And, not all friendly." the older man said.
"My name is Meriwether. And I may have a proposal for thee."
"Women and liquor involved?"
Meriwether chuckled to himself and said," To be sure!"
"Speak on."
"I have plans to go back into some wild parts of these United States
and need a cook for my adventures and also someone who can lead the camp
in songs. I have heard of your repertation as a camp cook and song
leader. Would you consider this?"
"Maybe." The young Jack still looked into the flames and the winds
outside blew harder.
"But you must promise me one thing," Jack spoke.
"What is that?"
"I need a month's worth of scotch to make me through this storm."
"Fair enough!"
The two shook hands and Meriwether felt the tough hands of this young
trapper.
"There are others who will travel with us. One, a cook himself, will
attend to my personal meals. Your job is to keep the rest full and
happy."
"Tomorrow morning we shall gather at the table over there and you'll
meet some of those who will travel with us."
Jack only nodded.
A loud roar came from up the ladder and beyond the doors up there that
held four bedrooms for the weary travelers. It had been going on all
night, so far, and the others had grown accustomed to it. The RCMP's
very own man of the north, Constable Sparkey snored himself into
oblivion. His canoe, a slick bottom one without any roundness in its
bottom, was declared by him to offer better control on the bent rivers.
You may ask why a Canadian in this period of time. But please wait for
that answer as it will come to you later.)
Meriwether climbed the ladder to the upper loft and opened a door into
a comfortable room where bear skins laid across wooden frames and
supported by ropes made a fine bed to slumber in.
Birch Bark Jack reached over and grabbed the brown jug on the small
table and poured himself another drink.
Suddenly the door from outside opened and the snow blew fiercely into
the warm room. A man covered in furs and snow stomped in and after
closing the door brushed of the snow and grinned to Jack.
"Bear Ridge's mah name an' huntin' an' fishin mah game!" sez the cheery
man.
"Hump!"
Bear Ridge bent over to better see this man sitting by the fire and
stooped over. Bear's brows reached in to themselves and a frown appeared
on his forehead.
"I head that tharz a man hare who'd pay fer an edjew-kated person to
head into the' new territories. Iz hit so?" Bear asked.
"Upstairs," answered Jack.
Again the giant of a snore came.
"What the' Hell waz that!" cried Bear
"A Mounty with a slick canoe."
"Oh."
"Anyone else here?"
"Yeah. A fellow from around these parts who calls hisseff Merry
Weather."
"MMMMM. No one else?"
"No."
Calamidy Jean came out to see who had entered her establishment. Her
foods were known around these parts and she even went so far as to pack
many of a meal for the ones passing through.
"Hello. Can I help thee?" Jean asked.
"Yez ma'am. I needz a place to put up fer th' night."
"Good. I have one room left. That'll be one shilling worth. Supper
included."
"Fair enough!"
Bear counted out the coin from a sock he pulled from under the large
fur coat he wore. The aroma clashed with the smells of food in the
room.
"Second door on the right." Slipping the coin into a side pocket, she
asked, "You like de-hydrated elk with rice?"
Bear nodded affirmative to this.
"Ya'll wouldn't happen to have a bottle o' wine with out the' label?"
"Yes. It has a cork on it... no other way."
"Yep!" Bear cried with a grin on his face. He set about pulling the
cork off. POP! Off came the cork. Bear placed the neck to his lips and
began to chug. After a heavy draw on the bottle, Bear wiped his mouth
with the cuff of his fur coat and grinned ear to ear.
Jean placed a plate of elk with rice four times what the average man
would or could eat. Bear looked at it and smiled wider.
Jean sat down by the fire and began to ponder if she could get the
local Indians to make her botas for the trekkers passing through.
So the night went. Sometime around mid night the little group went
their separate ways into their respective beds to sleep this wintry
night through.
I'll get chapter three soon.... swampy
_________________
What instructions?