The Mountain Man and Randy Chapter 7 Trader Bobs pots and Pans
Posted: Thursday, December 24, 2009
by Cecil Nye
http://www.ironcooker.com
I hear that sound, that faint sound in the
wind. Something or someone was up ahead on the trail.
"What is it Randy?" I hear that sound
too. And even as strange a sound as it was, Randy wasn't even upset about
the noise. His hair wasn't up and he wasn't even looking like something was
wrong.
That is weird; my dog knows what is ahead. Big
Jim Brown always trusted his dog, but this time something was telling him to be
careful. Just then it hit him. There could only be one person or
one thing that would leave that sound and it wasn't an accident. It was meant
for him to hear the noise.
"Well Stranger, you
are not any better at this than the last time I seen you". "I could have taken
all your pots and pans off that pack animal and you wouldn't have even missed
that cast iron cookware you have till you got down the mountain road a mile or
two."
It was Trader Bob
standing there in front of him. How he got there or what that other sound is
was something Bob had kept a secret for a long time. It was one of them things
that keeps a mountain man alive in bad situations.
The smaller man stood
there in his buckskin pants , knee high leather boots , his heavy bear hide coat, and a thick rabbit fur hat he had
traded for down in the Indian village. He carried a huge knife and pistol just
inside the fold of his big coat, on his left side. there was a big leather strap over his
shoulders and tied to that was his huge
50 caliber mountain rifle.
"Where is that big
dog that likes that cast iron cookware?" Just then as fast as the wind brought
in the sound, Randy was there standing behind Trader Bob. "You found your match
Bob; the dog is as quiet as you" Darn it
all there isn't a thing left to eat and I do owe this man. Maybe we can catch a
fish or two.
"I left the Indian village a week ago and
they said that one of their men came up this way to meet you and nobody has
seen a thing since". "They said, you should be down there by now."
"I packed my pots and pans, tossed in a slab of bacon and beans. I have a big piece of beef on salt too."
I
sure hope he don't think that I can't hunt or catch any fish.
"We are real grateful Bob, the venison ran out last night and I haven't had a
chance to catch any fish for tonight." The
Indian on my pack mule is the man they said came up here for me. "He broke
his leg and I found him back a few miles with a tree on top of him". The infection is gone but he is so week that
I had
to tie him on to the mule so he wouldn't fall off.
"Looks like you have had your hands full."
The smaller man made a loud whistle, and his mule came running. You could hear
the pots and pans banging all over the mountains.
Build a fire my friend and get out that Dutch oven for my 4 legged friend. All
seemed like home again on that side of the mountain. as close to home as the
Mountain men have ever known.
Randy was drinking
from his favorite cast iron Dutch oven. The Indian was starting the fire pit
for Bob,
and Big Jim brown was unpacking that cast iron skillet to cook the salted beef that his old friend had
brought.
Tomorrow they will
build a cart to pull behind the mule so it won't be so hard on the Indian they
named Pete. Dang if I can say the young man's Indian name.
They ate and caught up on all that was going on around the mountain that
evening. It was good to see his old friend again. Next time it will be me helping out.
They slept that night
and dreamed about big cats and bears on the mountain, and the long trails they
had taken in the past. Tomorrow our journey starts again my friend. Tomorrow we
start down the mountain again.
http:www.ironcooker.com
you're just going to learn how to be a more prolific writer...I'm tired of waiting for more! Great story.richThank you very much. And a Merry Christmas to you.Happy KristiKwanziKhah!I think that coverss all the politically correct bases...lol
