Return of the Mountain Men - Part 2

Well, folks, in dis post, I'll chronicle what we mountain men (Mountain Man, Little Big Man, and yours truly) did on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!

On Friday mornin', the camp cook (guess who?) shot a couple o' praerie chickens, skinned 'em, chopped 'em up, and threw 'em in a skillet along with a slab o' wild boar sausage I had jest killed at dawn. I also added some wild herbs I found, and- hey, watch it! Ouch! Oooh! quit hittin' me with that horse whip! Yow! Ow, ow, ow...

(Editor's note: Scribe is currently undergoing a well deserved thrashing in the coal shed for that outlandish lie he just told. The truth is that Scribe used eight eggs from a carton bought at the local supermarket and a package of sausage meat he procured from a friend to make breakfast. The "herbs" he used were simply bits of parsley, garlic, and salt which he had brought along from home. I trust that Scribe will have learned his lesson from here on out, and that the reader will no longer be bothered by such nonsense.)

..Oookay, folks... just let me sit down real slow like... phew, am I sore...(sigh)... well, I best get on with da story...

After breakfast, which were perty good, if I may say so myself, we got together our powder, balls, and da like, and set off to go ta war with da injuns - okay, okay! Don't hit me again! I'll tell da truth! Truth is, we jest went off ta shoot the last fifteen targets o' da rifle walk... don't think I much like the thought o' bringin' home dead steel fer supper... (sigh)...

The shootin' was fun but challengin' (the targets ranged from 'bout 30 ta 150 yards away), and when all was done, I had twenty-three out o' thirty, Mountain man had twenty five, and Little Big Man had fifteen. Over all we brought home 'bout sixty steel figures fer supper. However, when we started ta think about things, them steelthangs didn't look to appetizin'... nooo sirr, we decided we would have something, ah, less crunchy fer lunch: meat and cheese... again. :)

Along 'bout 2:30 PM, we gathered fer da hawk an' knife contest, run by Many Scars. Little Big Man wowed everybody (what's new :)) and all but ate out ter heart o' da log. Ha! That day we did two of the contests, cuz Many Scars planned ta do da third on Saturday.

Later (afore it was dark), I went to camp, grabbed my gun, went inter da woods, found me a nice buck, aimed, and - ahh, never mind. If da editor finds I colored da facts a little, me hide won't be very comfy... Fer dinner I cooked up steaks with garlic salt an' italian seasoning (da camp cook never forgets his herbs an' seasonins). Boy, was they good! Wouldn't mind makin' dat a meal to eat at every rondy-voo.

Later dat night, we curled up in our warm wraps, made us some warm drinks, and sat 'round da fire listenin' to a friend tell stories and songs and jokes and all. Along about 8:30, we hit da sack. Only dis time, both Little Big Man and I crawled inter da same bed roll so as ta keep each other warm. It worked, but near mornin', Little Big Man scooted about an' managed to get da bag all ter himself, leavin' me with only a pile o' blankets on me head and da rest o' me body as frigid as da waters of Alaska...

Saturday mornin', we woke up an' got a fire goin'. Our friends Many Scars, Longtongue, and Pack Mule whipped up burritoes again and invited us over. We accepted (of course), and also cooked up a slab o'f bacon and brought it over as a contribution to da meal. Needless ta say, breakfast was good! The only problem was that the burritos contained a significent amount of green peppers. As a result, our sinuses were, ah, cleared (to say da least).

After dat wonderful meal, Mountain Man went off with some old timers to shoot a fusil, or flintlock fer da first time. Little Big Man and I followed along with our rifles to shoot da targets again jest fer fun.

At noon, we ate a brief lunch, and had a rest, before hurrying off to compete in the last stage of the hawk an' knife contest. In this contest, we had ta throw double turn, (which be about twice da usual distance you throw from). It was challenging, but we pulled through all right. However, it ended with a throw off between Little Big Man and the reigning state hawk and knife champion, Lazy Horse, for first place over all da camp. In da end, Little Big Man beat Lazy horse by two points! Dis was da first time at dat rondy-voo dat someone that age (Little Big Man be 11) had whopped all da camp! Huzzah!

After that, we participated in an archery contest. That were great fun! The only drawback was this: you know, the bows Little Big Man and I have ain't nearly as powerful as doze toted by da men. Sooo... the target ended up bein' a rather long distance away, and thus, to allow for distance and lack of shootin' power, Little Big Man and I had ta aim way above da target to have any hopes o' hittin' it! Ha!

Later, at de awards ceremony, da prizes were handed out. Little Big Man were awarded a brand new Bomboy throwin' knife (he done got three already), and boy was he ever happy! Hee-haw, ye should a seen his face! Huzzah!

Fer supper dat night, Pack Mule, Longtongue, Many Scars, an old timer named Hookeye, and us done got together and made a big feast! There was beans, corn bread, potatoes w/ onions, pepers and seasonin's, venison, and pheasant! Boy was it a big meal! Da only thing was that every now and then, as I ate a bit o' pheasant, I'd come across small, hard little balls in da meat. I thought nothin' o' it, thinkin' they was bones. So it was to my chagrin that I later learned those "small, hard balls" was shotgun pellets from when da bird was killed! Later that night we drank hot cider around da fire, listened ta stories and songs (again), and then, tired from da long day, went ter bed.

Next mornin' (Sunday), we commenced ter packin' up once more. It were kinda sad that the rondy-voo was over, but we were glad to be goin' home. So, after all was packed, we fired up that metel wagon we rode up in, and started fer Edgewood.

About three hours later, we got home, and after a lovin' hello to Reaches Up and da women folk, we got showers! Ha! Wasn't it good to get cleaned up! Then we sat around and talked about what we did up thar in the Capitan Mountains, and learned what had gone on while we was gone. Ahhh, it was good to be back.

Next thing we knew, we was climbin' inter our nice, comfy beds, pullin' da covers up, and.... ZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZz...And so ends da chronicle o' our doin's at da "Frozen Toes" rondy-voo! Until next time, dis be Scribe sayin', so long!

~Scribe

Slicin' & Dicin'

Shootin' da bow

Da Council Fire

A Mountain Man Feast!

Little Big Man grinnin' as he receives his new throwin' knife