Category: winter

The Trapper really didn’t have much to carry on the short walk to the lone wigwam but he understood that the grandfather was teaching his his grandson hospitality. However, even in it’s non-functional state and completely devoid of powder he chose to retain his long rifle. The grandfather agreed after making sure the weapon was unloaded. As they approached the well built shelter the grandfather bid him to stay just on the outside of the encampment until he was called for. The Trapper knew that as a guest he was expected to observe all customs without questioning the reasons. The grandfather approached the door of the wigwam wich was simply an elk hide hung over the threshold and spoke to someone inside. After a few minutes he motioned for the boy and the Trapper to come on in. Inside a fire burned low in a stone circle. A young girl that looked to be around the age of twelve tended to a woman in her 30s that was very pregnant. The walls were lined with cots that were covered with furs as were the walls. A few shelves held gords and various boxes made from either bark or rawhide. From the exposed framework hung personal possessions that were mostly tools and implements for daily living in the forest. The grandfather pointed to his own long rifle hanging over his cot and then to an empty cot with a series of empty pegs and instructed the trapper that he could use that space for as long as he stayed with them. The grandfather turned to his granddaughter and asked her if the soup was ready. The love he had for his family was obvious in the gentleness of his voice and sparkle in his eyes. She collected a few small tins from the shelf and the Trapper’s tin from her younger brother and returned with one portion of hickory nut suop at a time. The grandfather said a few words of blessing over the meal and they began to eat. The trapper was thankful for the family’s hospitality but he wondered how they came to be separated from the rest of their tribe. Of course protocol wouldn’t allow him to ask. The grandfather noticed the uncomfortable look on the Trapper’s face and decided to break the tension. He pointed to a hatchet on the far side of the hut. He explained that when he was a boy he would bring extra furs to the white man’s camp and trade for different things. Tin cups, knives and even the hatchet on the wall all made a big difference in the quality of his life. He made a little money by guiding trappers as well. Even the long rifle that he’d shown the trapper earlier was a traded item. Eventually he was put in charge of trades by his elders and was a good negotiator for his people. The trapper explained that he had come into the mountains to make his own fortune but hadn’t done as well. He made enough to survive but he never got rich and just become accustomed to life in the wilderness. The grandfather smiled at him and advised that in his experience traders often did better than trappers. The Trapper thought for a moment but was interrupted by the pregnant woman who softly said, It is time for this baby to come. The grandfather didn’t panic but simply gathered his grandson and the Trapper to escort them outside where they would sit by the big fire and wait.

Proceed to The Trapper Part 6

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The young Shawnee boy moved through the froze forest like a bobcat chases the rabbit ducking limbs and bounding over logs and rocks. He slipped on the ice a couple of times but seemed to pop back up without any effort. He finally arrived at the little dome shaped wigwam where he lived with his mother, older sister and grandfather. Grandfather! Grandfather! He shouted as he approached the door. His Grandfather stood up from the fire where he was trying to sneak a bowl of warm hickory nut suop before dinner time. The old man cast a glance across his shoulder and raised his finger to his lips in a shushing way. But it was too late. The boys mother and sister were standing in the open doorway with a look of discontent for their patriarch and his impatient attempt to eat before it was time. Knowing he’d been caught once again the Grandfather yielded and emptied his wooden bowl back into the pot. The women couldn’t help but be amused by the turn of events and disappeared back into the wigwam. The Grandfather was frustrated but his love for his grandson knew no boundaries. He crouched down to the boy’s level and gently took him by the shoulders. What is it this time? He asked with a smile on his face. Since the death of his father the young boy had developed a habit of going of into the forest and coming back with wild fanciful tales. He even claimed to escape from a water panther( a cross between a panther and a dragon )once. Nearly out of breath the boy told his grandfather that there was a red haired giant that crawled out of a grave down by the creek and made a fish spear. The grandfather laughed. No red haired giants have been seen since the time of my grandfather’s grandfathers. But you are a wonderful story teller! The grandfather continued to smile and his eyes beamed with delight for his grandson’s talent. No grandfather! He’s down there now! Come and see! His grandson had never offered profe of his “adventures” before. So after telling the women where he was going he took his grandson by the hand and they began to walk towards the creek. It was when they were getting close to the Trapper’s camp that something caught the grandfather’s eye. A glint of silver shimmering in the sun. The grandfather stopped his grandson and instructed him to retrieve whatever was on the edge of the creek. The nimble boy easily walked out on the bent trunk of a tree and hung upside-down to reach the object. He returned with the Trapper’s medicine hat and the glint was from one of the silver trinkets that adorned it. The Shawnee had traded with the whites often and he knew that the trinkets on this hat was kept as trade for passing through native lands. It was a kind of symbolic toll for safe passage and good will. A mountaineer wouldn’t carelessly toss it away like that. He carefully folded the hat and it’s remaining trinkets into his belt and said nothing to his grandson about what it might mean. If whoever owned this hat had fallen to the arrow of an angry warrior then the soldiers would come to avenge him. He and grandson continued to walk quietly along the trail until he smelled smoke and fish cooking. This was a good sign because if the white man was cooking fish then he was alive. Not willing to risk his precious grandson the older Shawnee man told him to stay hidden in the bushes and walked into the camp. He looked around but saw nobody. Then he stepped over to the hole in the ground that was partially covered by the upside-down boat. There he found the trapper fast asleep. At first he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to startle the white man who was laying in his hole with his axe and rifle. So he just stood there silently waiting to be noticed. The trapper began to snore loudly and the caused the grandfather to chuckle a little. The Trapper’s eyes popped open and the two just stared at each other for a moment. The native man wore a blue trade jacket, red sash style belt and buckskin pants. Having traded with the native population for several years the trapper spoke Algonquin. Are you here to kill me? He asked the old man. No. The old man said. But I see that you’re sleeping in a grave. Are you here to die? Immediately the trapper recognized the native sense of humor and they both laughed for a moment. The trapper told him about how the boat capsized and how he’d survived the night. The grandfather listened with sympathy for the Trapper’s circumstances and invited him to stay in the wigwam until the weather broke and he could return home. The trapper accepted. The grandfather called to his grandson to come and help carry the Trapper’s belongings and together they walked back up the trail.

Proceed to The Trapper Part 5

Good night friends and be blessed throughout your days.

Announcement:

I am adding additional social media to my network. Eventually, I’ll be leaving Facebook behind for a multitude of reasons. Even though the Lloyd’s Lens Photography page is strictly non-political I have been restricted from interacting with followers with no explanation for why. But it’s not just that. For years now Facebook has throttled content providers in general. They encourage us to grow our audience and then want to sell us back the access to them. In addition, they collect and sell the data from our interaction. So Facebook has become an entanglement of thorns. In response I have created the Lloyd’s Lens Photography Discussion Group on MeWe. We can still interact directly on the blog but starting today I’ll be looking for more platforms that respect the privacy of my followers and don’t limit who gets to see the post.

I want you to join my group on MeWe: https://mewe.com/join/lloydslensphotographydiscussiongroup

Hey Friends! Just a quick reminder that Lloyds Lens Photography is available for portraits!

To book me simply reach out using the Contact Page and we’ll set a date. If you’re within a 50 mile radius of Summersville West Virginia all travel fees are waived.

If you’re enjoying my blog and don’t want to miss a post then you can sign up for email alerts on my website.

https://lloydslensphotographyllc.com/

Have you checked out the Zazzle Store?

I’m now using Zazzle to fulfil orders. What this means for you is a secure way to place an order, discount codes & a broader product selection! Simply use the contact form on my websiteand tell me which image you want and I’ll reply with a direct link to where you can place the order.