Saturday, October 31, 2020

Packs and a Story for Halloween

     

    So early muzzleloader season has come and gone here in Penn's woods and I only have a few squirrels to show for it. The whole week was in the upper 80's so deer weren't moving much and the few I was able to push out of the brush to get a shot at unfortunately had horns (we can only shoot does)

    I was able to finish up a small "experiment" I had left my new paintied pack stashed in the woods for a few weeks and it was able to keep all the gear I had in it (some dried corn, cooking gear, extra leggings/mocs and fire kit) dry and vermin free. I was also ablt to finish up my bear skin pack thanx to the help of my surrogate Dad Bill Schneider.


Back of pack made from bark tan

large flap/straps make for a great place to store blanket/jacket

Painted pack stayed nice and water tight


    I carried the pack all hunting season and the miles I put in wearing it flew by. It's a great pack to carry all the stuff you really need (Mocs, food, kettle, and I carry an extra canteen in it) The extended flap was a great place to stash my jacket when the temps got out of the 60's mid morning.

    Since it's halloween I thought I'd share one of my favorite "spooky" Narrative stories from your favorite cold/starving captive captive John Tanner:

    There is, on the bank of that river, a place which looks like one the Indians would always choose to encamp at. In a bend of the river is a beautiful landing place, behind it a little plain, a thick wood, and a small hill rising abruptly in the rear. But with that spot is connected a story of fratricide, a crime so uncommon that the spot where it happened is held in detestation, and regarded with terror. No Indian will land his canoe, much less encamp, at "The Place Of The Two Dead Men."

     They relate that many years ago the Indians were encamped here, when a quarrel arose between two brothers having she-she-gwi for totems. One drew his knife and slew the other, but those of the band who were present looked upon the crime as so horrid that without hesitation or delay, they killed the murderer and buried them together.

     As I approached this spot, I thought much of the story of the two brothers who bore the same totem with myself, and were, as I supposed, related to my Indian mother. I had heard it said that if any man encamped near their graves, as some had done soon after they were buried, they would be seen to come out of the ground, and either react the quarrel and the murder, or in some other manner so annoy and disturb their visitors that they could not sleep.

 Curiosity was in part my motive, and I wished to be able to tell the Indians that I had not only stopped, but slept quietly at a place which they shunned with so much fear and caution. The sun was going down as I arrived. I pushed my little canoe in to the shore, kindled a fire, and after eating my supper, lay down and slept.

     Very soon, I saw the two dead men come and sit down by my fire, opposite me. Their eyes were intently fixed upon me, but they neither smiled, nor say any thing. I got up and sat opposite them by the fire, and in this situation I awoke. The night was dark and gusty, but I saw no men, or heard any other sounds than that of the wind in the trees. It is likely I fell asleep again, for I soon saw the same two men standing below the bank of the river, their heads just rising to the level of the  ground I had made my fire on, and looking at me as before.

     After a few minutes they rose one after the other, and sat down opposite me; but now they were laughing, and pushing at me with sticks, and using various methods of annoyance. I endeavoured to speak to them, but my voice failed me. I tried to fly, but my feet refused to do their office. Throughout the whole night I was in a state of agitation and alarm. Among other things which they said to me, one of them told me to look at the top of the little hill which stood near. I did so, and saw a horse fettered, and standing looking at me. "There, my brother," said the jebi, "is a horse which I give you to ride on your journey to-morrow, and as you pass here on your way home, you can call and leave the horse, and spend another night with us." 

    At last came the morning, and I was in no small degree pleased to find that with the darkness of the night these terrifying visions vanished. But my long residence among the Indians, and the frequent instances in which I had known the intimations of dreams verified, occasioned me to think seriously of the horse the jebi had given me. Accordingly I went to the top of the hill, where I discovered tracks and other signs, and following a little distance, found a horse which I knew belonged to the trader I was going to see. As several miles travel might be saved by crossing from this point on the Little Saskawjewun to the Assinneboin, 

    I left the canoe, and having caught the horse, and put my load upon him, led him towards the trading house where I arrived next day. In all subsequent journeys through this country, I carefully shunned "the place of the two dead," and the account I gave of what I had seen and suffered there, confirmed the superstitious terrors of the Indians.