Tag Archives: historical trekking

Careful Research Opens the Door…

Retaliation extracted a tolerated agony. Thorns poked, prodded and prickled. Mosquitoes buzzed about. The trade blanket, pulled tight as in a winter squall, offered some protection from itchy welts, but the cost was excessive heat, dripping perspiration and dehydration. In … Continue reading

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A Place to Be and a Place to Go

Saturday, 17, December, 1763: Eight Canada geese ke-honked, unseen and to the east. Orange, lavender and yellow marked the western horizon, beyond the Riviere aux Raisins. Snowflakes drifted all about. The air smelled stark and unforgiving. Mi-ki-naak’s nose dripped, but … Continue reading

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A Gobbler Dubbed “Black Bart”

Skin stung; eyes watered. The cedar bough bobbed in arrogance, celebrating its humble victory. Trail-worn elk moccasins staggered, then slowed. Thick clouds, coupled with night’s unforgiving abyss, shrouded the moon and stars. The glade demanded a heavy toll on that … Continue reading

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Crushed Soda Cans Slip By…

Black powder overflowed a brass charger. The precious granules trickled down the Northwest gun’s muzzle. Wadding squeaked, resisted, then seated firm with a hickory wiping stick. Lead shot rattled to the breech, secured with thinner wadding, tamped tight. The fowl … Continue reading

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Not Much Changes…

Muffled wing beats rumbled. A reddish-brown blur rose in the grey soup of morning vapor. The fowl dropped into a thick patch of sedge grass, thirty or so paces east of its night roost. Overnight dew drenched each slender, tawny … Continue reading

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Big sigh…guilty as sinned…

A chilly breeze held mosquitoes at bay. Light dew glistened on greening grass. The autumn olives’ pungent perfume filled the glade with expectation. Damp elk moccasins pressed north, angled west, then crested a flat-topped knoll. That May, in the Year … Continue reading

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Transforming an Offending Transgression

Treetops swayed. Gusts whooshed in the barren branches. Winter moccasins, made of buffalo hide and lined with trade blanket pieces, stepped cautious. Red blanket tails, encrusted with snow, flapped against deerskin leggins. Wolf tracks wove in and around the hardwoods, … Continue reading

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No red, no snood, no gobbler…

Silvery dew drops splashed. Wool leggins whisked north. Elk moccasins whispered along an earthen doe trail. That course led to an overgrown wash and a skinny box elder tree that afforded a commanding view of a tiny break between the … Continue reading

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