~ Canoeing to Cooper Lake ~

~The Day of the report is the 2nd. of September of
the Day of the Lord of Two Thousand and One~

Free Trappers, the purpose of this dispatch is to relate a curious experience thet fell upon me only a few days past. As noted in the previous dispatch, some of our Free Trappers were gathering on Cooper's Lake for a summer's hunt. In previous years this had always been a very successful venture, thus, I wanted to join the party for the hunt, and it was to this end that I was paddling my canoe up the tributaries of the Tapteel (called the Eyakima River by some, for the rather war-like Indians that inhabit these parts)on the 17th of August, past.

Crossing to the South side of Cooper Lake to the spot at which we had encamped previously. Upon approaching the encampment, I saw five canoes pulled up onto the marsh grass, and recognizing the canoes as those of our party, I hailed the encampment. This action had the desired effect of bringing some of the hunters to aid me in transporting my equipment, a distance of about thirty yards.

As I entered the encampment, and while say my hellos, I noticed immediately the absence of firearms. There wasn't a single Rifle or a FUSIL. No shoot pouches or powder horns adorned our hunters! Nor were there any hanging about, within immediate reach of our Men! It was the most curious situation I had come upon in a long time. I said to Bill, the most experienced hunter of the group.

"War's yer rifle,Bill?....."Ain't got won." He answered, head down, voice very quiet. "Wal, where's yer fusil then?" I asked......"Ain't got it neither." He murmered, same demeanor as before.

I looked around. "Ron war's yer rifle er yer fusil?....."Ain't got neither." He said, with the same pitiful look'n manner as Bill.

Terry yer booshway, war's yearn? wot's the meaning of this?" I asked.- No reply, he jist kicked the dirt with the toe of his moccasin.

"Mike....Roberts, how about ye?" I asked, dumb-founded by this time. "I got a gun." Roberts said. But I never did see it in three days.

Oly.... you must have a rifle or fusee, if'n ye came through thet Piute country down South ta git here!......"Nope." He said.

"John, Aaron, Brendon,surely ye half yer rifles. Wagh, Aaron, ye with a shinning to case fer yers?" John jist shook his haid, 'n the boys looked down at the ground..... One last chance.

"Eric" I said, my voice filled with hope, "tell me thet ye half yer shootin' irons!" I could tell ye thet. Eric said quietly. "But I wouldn't be the truth."

Wal, I never seed anythin' like this" I said, as I sat down on my food box, leaning my rifle carefully against a tree,less than an arm's lenght from where I was sitting...... "I never seen anything like this." I repeated. "I jist caint believe it!"

Terry, who was the Booshway, along with John, was purty exited about some "sign" he found the previous day. I guess it was "some", 'cuz he'd git to rattlin' on about "it" ever once in a while. We thought maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to attract the attention of hostiles with campfire smoke, so we did our cookin' in a curious way. But that's another story in its self.

Friday evening war a good time. Thar war a bunch of injin weapons laying around the encampment (which seem a bit curious) so capt. Gray-Beard, Gray-Hair, Gray-Wolf 'n myself got into a shootin' match with some bows. I was winnin' 'till he called fer a "second" 'cuz his balance, aim, eyesight, 'n good judgement had deteriorated as the evening progressed, If ya know wot I mean? It war at a point war we had shot away all the errors, so we war chuckin' a spear at a bale of fur er somethin'. Wal, I did hit the bale of whatever it war, with thet spear, 'n this makes ol' Captain Gray-Beard real nervous, 'cuz he knows I got him whipped. So, Ol' Gray-Hair starts hymin' and hawin' around 'n aimin' 'n gittin' set to thro thet spear, but he never does. Now, times a passin' by, 'n Ol' Grey-Capt. Terry is failin' fast, 'n' he knows it, so he says, I'm a callin' fer a secunt, I want a secunt. I can have a secunt cain't I?... Ron, with an air of athority says, "Sure, ye can half a secunt."

Wal, I'm thinkin' he's already used up most of an hour, so 'nuther second ain't gonna matter, when up steps Mr. Sobrioty hisself, Oly. He says in a deep voice, jist ringin' with self-confidence....."I'll be his second." Hand ME that lance." Wal, Ol' Gray Terry Wolf 'most fell over hisself gittin' thet spear to Oly. 'n I'm wonderin' wot this has to do with givin' Ol' Capt. Gray another second. To my surprize, Oly tosses the spear at the bale 'n hits it, so I figger it's a draw, but some of the other boys who Ol' Captain has worn out with all the delays says, 'nope, it's over, this secunt hit closes the center! Ol' Captain Terry Gray Wolf wins! So even though it warn't a race, I got beat by a second.

After all thet shootin' we told yarns fer a spell. Then Ol' Terry, Captain who's a sittin' on a stool starts harangin' all us hunters ta shoot 'n error between his legs 'n the legs of the stool. So I did. At this Ol' Grey Wolf wobbles up off'n thet stool 'n says....."You shat thet error! you achully did it!" You told me to....I says"....."It's my turn." says the Captain. "You sit on thet stool 'n let me shoot!" Naw I says. "I want a secunt."

At this, one of the Trapperrs, who had slept thru all the evening's festivities crawld outa his blankets 'n stumbled out into the woods ta relieve hisself 'n leave a little 'hair-a-the-bear' on the forest floor. What a shame ta half missed awl thet excitement 'n fun.(and speakin' of excitement....is the guy floatin' around without RIFLE or FUSIL drivin' ye nuts yet? he, he, he)

On Saturday mornin' Bill paddled to a pre-agreed upon Rendezvous site ta pick up Cheryl. After they returned, 'n after breakfast we went on a hunt that was directed by Captain Berger 'n Cockrum, who were both feeling somewhat better then they was right at breakfast time.

At the onset of the hunt we had to portage our canvas and equipage acrost a point of land to some better huntin' ground -more sign thar- We each set six traps on this point of land. Next we proceed up a small stream, which was abundant with waterfowl. We shot many of these using the "injun" weapons instead of my rifle, for we wanted not to alert any hostiles to our whereabouts more than we wanted meat. Eric shot a fish with an error! It war a very good hunt as always!

Saturday evening was very pleasant. We had plenty to eat 'n more good stories to share. I got up early Sunday morning 'n did a leetle "still fishin'" the reward for my efforts were five very nice trout.

After breakfast Sunday, we carried our equipage to the canoe 'n loaded them. As we paddled away from our encampment, and the extreme beauty that our Father created for us threre. A prayer of thanks seemed very appropriate, yet not nearly adequate to express our appreciation, on our awe.

I'm looking back and contemplating about all them injun bows 'n errors in camp, and no rifles or fusils. I think I know what must half happened before I arrived. I think some of them Eyakimas put the sneak on the camp thet first night and traded weapons whilst our trappers slept peacefully. Yup, I'm sure thet wot happened 'cuz ye niver seed sitch a humilliated bunch as when I started askin 'bout thar rifles 'n fusils.

Cooper Lake August 2001, those who came: Ron, Eric, Terry, John Cockrum, Aaron, Brendon, Mike Roberts, Bill, Cheryl, Oly and Myself. A very good encampment! Thanks, Terry & John!

NOTE:

Thar be a MEETIN' at the Palace, E-burg,
Monday Sept. 10 @ 7 p.m. BE THAR!