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A Long Winter Ride
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Booshway
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Hiya, 'Sticks!

What're ya sputtering at! Aint ya never heered ov sunglasses/spectacles? Or even Jeans? 'N Dupont is tha pc/hc powder what were available! Aint ya larned nothin' 'ere at tha Campfire!!

Sunglasses were available starting from about 1760. These had round lenses and were made until about 1820. The round lens came back in style in 1910.

Sunglasses in nearly oval lenses were available prior to 1800. Oval lenses were available from 1800 to 1920. Rectangular and oblong lenses were available from 1800 to 1890. Octagonal lenses appeared by 1840 and were available til 1890. The lens glass colors were green, blue, and an amber that was frosted with a clear center for shooting spectacles.

The type and style of the frames and ear pieces are what is used to date spectalcles. Thet would would make fer another long post!

Denim is also known as Serge (Serge De Nimes) woven in Nimes, France prior to 1800. Similar to Denim was a cloth from Genoa, Italy called Jeans (Gens) and woven starting around 1600. This cloth was used for sailors trousers and later work pants. Denim was also woven in the U.S starting around 1810. The Denim trousers were dyed Indigo and were available in brown, too; they had quarter pockets and usually suspender buttons.

Ah aint even gonna explain what Dupont is, cuz I knowed yer jest funnin'!

Keep an eye on the ridgeline......'n' yer thinkin' cap on!

Regards, xfox


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Sniff . . . I don't think sunglasses got to these ol' hills until the 1950s . . . you gotta admit that'd throw a feller. And here I was struttin' around in a new set o' Wranglers that I got myself fer Mrs. Sticks B-day a'thinkin' nobody else had any . . . waugh! Don't know what got into me about Dupont - I got an empty Dupont can back yonder in my cache . . .

Bet you wuz grinnin' like a possom earin' sour grapes whilst writin' your answer. Looks like ye'd hev a little respect fer the elderly . . . heh heh.

Mizer'bledumbandmumblin'aboutit'sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Well that looks to be a pretty complete list of goods. I'm thinking that pack mule is gonna earn his keep. Kinda surprized he didn't have a pistol in than mess though.

Only thing I couldn't recognise was a the 1 tin Balm of Gilead...but since it's in with the personal grooming supplies, I'm assuming it's some sort of hair tonic...you know, to keep his hair out of his eyes Wink.

I bet old Pascal Thibault has seen a lot in his time too. And I bet he is tough as nails and'll probably drink most under the table. I can just picture that short, wide shouldered kinda scruffy looking guy wearing his toque, wool pants and a wool shirt and holding a pipe in his hand waging his finger at Josiah.

Good stuff xfox...keep 'em coming.

L8R...Ken
 
Posts: 403 | Location: In the Hardwoods of Eastern Iowa | Registered: 15 November 2005Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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I'm a'thinkin' that Balm of Gilead was ointment for cuts'n'such, cuz there actually was such a place across the Jordan river from Israel, and they had some plants with sap that was used thataway. It'uz knowed all over.

But who knows with ol' Crossfox; he ain't foxy fer nuthin'.

Figgerin'sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
Picture of Pilgrim
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That sure is an extensive list of goods for the personal use of just one trapper. Sounds like he lost everything he had on the Yellowstone and showed up at the post bare nekked. Or is he stocking up on trade goods?


"Any day you wake up on the right side of the dirt is a good day"
 
Posts: 428 | Location: Northwestern California | Registered: 05 May 2006Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Unbeknownst to the sutler, Josiah is actually quite well off for a Free Trapper. Over the years he had been careful to set aside credits with the pack traders at rendezvous’ and have the credits deposited with the First Bank of St. Louis. It had been a shrewd decision as he has a worth of over $8,000.

He has also saved coinage when he acquired it, especially Mexican gold escudos and silver reales from the Santa Fe traders. Gold was trading at $21 a troy ounce at the trading posts throughout the mountains.

Unsmiling, Josiah untied a leather pouch from his belt and let it clank on top of the counter board. He watched carefully the sutlers reaction as he took out two of the gold coins, lightly bouncing them in the palm of his hand.

Josiah replied, “Ah’ll pay with gold, iffen ye doan mind……Ya gotta scale ta weigh it with doan ya?”

Sputtering, Pascal answers, as he stares in surprise at the gold coin, “Le’Or?…..Oui……Certainmont, mon amis! Pascal weel geev you good measurement le’ Or.”

Josiah drops one of the gold coins into Pascal’s open palm. Pascal turns the coin over several times, hefts it weight, and then sets the coin edge between his teeth and bites it.

“Mon deu! Zee Or, she is real, no? I weel weigh eet for value, mon amis.”

“Ah aint yor ‘ mon amee,’ frenchy, ‘n’ doan git no ideas about cheatin’ me none.”

It took a while as Pascal carefully printed the cost next to each item and then using a abacas figured the amount. With a practiced look of regret he presented the totaled sum of $294 to Josiah.

“Zee transport costs, monsieur, keep going up. Le’ regret’, eh?” Pascal, placated.

“Ah kin live with it, frenchy. Kallate tha weight.”

“Ahhhh, hmmmmm, at $21 dolors per troy ounz,…….hmmmm, oui, eet comes to 14 ounz, mon amis. I weel weigh the escudos now, eh?”

Josiah counted out three more of the Mexican 8 escudos coins and handed them to Pascal. These were put on the scale pan along with the first two coins; counter weights were added to the counter pan.

Frowning, Pascal looks from the scale to Josiah, “Hmmm, she comes up 9 ounz short, eh? It weel take a few more.”

Taking out another leather pouch, Josiah dumped the coins on the barrel top being used as a table. He slides five more of the 8 escudos coins out of the pile, plus two 4 escudos coins. These are in turn place on the scale. It balances at 14 ounces and Pascal smiles.


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Sheesh . . . it's all I can do to add pennies. I'm as confused as a termite in a yo-yo . . .

Dizzy'sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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'Sticks,
The most confusing part to me is how one weighs a bunch of coins of varying thicknesses (or else they would be using face value and not weight) and had it come out to be EXACTLY 14 ounces...

Stillwunderin'
Sparks


"I thought when you said you chased tornadoes, it was just a metaphor."
--soon to be ex-fiance in Twister
 
Posts: 247 | Location: Boise | Registered: 12 November 2011Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Uhhhh, hiya fellas!

Now you've got me all cornfabulated trying to figure it all out!

Now lets' see; If 8 escudos coins varied from .7616 to .9488696 ounce each; and 4 escudos coins varied from .3809 to .43224 ounce each; and 2 escudos coins varied from .1905 to .21788 ounce each; take the total added sum of ounces multiplied by the top trade value of $21 an ounce.......OHHHHHH! My head is startin' ta ache!

An 8 escudos coin face value in American dollars in 1840 was about $15 regardless of weight. Howsomever, gold value by weight at the frontier trading posts was lowest at $19 a troy ounce and highest at $21 a troy ounce, whether it was raw gold or minted.

Anyway, I know that 'Stick's problem is thet he jest plum ran out ov fingers 'n' toes when he was ah tabulatin' tha figgers.

Sparks......Cuz it's MY storey! HEHEhehe!

Keep an eye to the ridgeline......'n' keep the numbers from runnin' away!

Regards, xfox


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Sparks...it's his story (as he mentioned), that's how it came out to exactly 14 onces.

I think it's called 'writters license' or something like that. Just like the coincidence about all those trapper names around that coffee pot matching so closely some of the charactors around this campfire.

I guess I can accept Crossfox's reasoning about Sticks, although I have never met old Sticks in person so I can't vouch for how many fingers and toes he has. Now me on the other hand, being somewhat math savy, I know how to carry my toes to do more complicated mathematical formulae Wink.

So, let's see the next page of this saga. I wanna see how much of that stuff that Josiah bought makes it all the way to the Uintas as he planned. Would be a great adventure for sure.

Keep your top knot....and your powder...well...you know the rest.

L8R...Ken
 
Posts: 403 | Location: In the Hardwoods of Eastern Iowa | Registered: 15 November 2005Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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You mean you can use your toes too? Now I know why thet math stuff always left me feelin' kinda undone. That's the part I slept through, I reckon. Always wondered why the rest of the class were puttin' their shoes back on when I woke up. Wisht I hadn't missed it, now. The only way I know to carry my toes is to stick my foot in my mouth . . .

'Fox, I took it fer granted you'uz right on yer kackolassions. How'd I know the differ'nce?

Footinmouth'sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Buying $294 in pre 1840 dollars worth of stuff at a frontier trading post from a French trader and there's no lagniappe?

Oh yea...Merriam Webster says the first known use of lagniappe was in 1844...he would have to be dealing with a Spanish trader earlier than that, and it would be spelled slightly different.

Sparks


"I thought when you said you chased tornadoes, it was just a metaphor."
--soon to be ex-fiance in Twister
 
Posts: 247 | Location: Boise | Registered: 12 November 2011Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Sparks,

Thet sounds like something to eat, maybe with marinara sauce or maybe a flaky pastry slathered with honey......YUMMmmmmmmm!

I've compressed and stretched the timeline years for this tale some, but not that far!

Standby for the next episode.

Regards, xfox


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Josiah returned the smile; he had observed that Pascal had wrongly placed a smaller size counter weight on the scale, thus, throwing the total weight off by a couple of ounces in Josiah’s favor. And he wasn’t about to point it out to the sutler, either. He had been skinned by traders before and relished returning the favor.

“I weel have Andre ‘elp select the goods and check theem off the list, eh?” Pascal called for Andre, “ Andre, you are to ‘elp monsieur Buckner with his list of goods. See to it that he gets the best quality that we have.”

Turning to Josiah, “ Eet has beeen a pleasure doing business with you, monsieur! Eet is var seldom that gold is received in trade.” Pascal still smiling shakes Josiah’s hand and quickly gathers the Mexican gold pieces and heads to his office.

“Walna Andre, let’s take ah look at yor goods.” Josiah says as Andre moves to the piles of folded clothing.

Another clerk had fetched a cart to place the ever-growing pile of supplies and goods that Josiah had bought. He and Andre were down to the last few items to add to the cart.

The question now is to pick out which of the smoothbore guns, in the rack behind the long plank counter that suits Josiah. There are a couple of side-by-side guns, 12 and 10 bore; several single long barreled fowlers in 24, 20, 12 and 10 gauge and trade guns in 20 gauge. To Josiah’s consternation all the guns were percussed.

He wanted a flintlock gun, as he was not convinced that the percussion system was the best ignition system to have in the mountains. On several occasions he had met trappers, with percussed rifles, that had used, damaged, or lost all of the percussion caps needed to fire their rifles. Even with more trading posts being built and percussion caps being available, supplied and sold in the thousands, he felt uncomfortable in owning a percussion firearm.

“Ya got any flintlock guns ‘n back?” Josiah asked Andre.

“There are several old flintlocks, but I do not know iff they are in repair, monsuier. I weel bring theem out for you.” Andre replies.

He was still waiting for the clerk to return and was continuing to look over the percussed firearms when a man asks, “That rifle you have has a familiar look to it, friend. Would you mine me taking a look at it?”

Josiah turned toward the stranger and cradling Fetchumunder protectively, responds, “It aint fer sale, mister.”

“Oh! I don’t want to buy it; I just want to look it over. Perhaps, I should introduce myself, I’m…….” but before the stranger can do so he is interrupted by a pounding on his back and a boisterous voice exclaiming,

“Thar ye ar, John! Lost track ov ya fer abit, thought ye’d gon ta tha new post.”
The mountain man Dick Wootten then saw Josiah and blustered, “Walna, I’ll be! How’s yer stick floatin’, Buck? Aint seed ya fer ah spell, whar ya been hidin’ yer skelp? Have ya met John here yet? Ar ya goin’ ta be around ‘ere long? Looks ta be yer goin’ inta tradin’.”

“Whoa! Easy ol’hoss! Ye mighten wanna take ah breath betwixt words!” Josiah chuckled as both men clasped hands.

“Hyar, Josiah, shake hands with John Hawken, late ov St. Louis. John, this hyar ol’coon is Josiah Buckner, a True Hivernant ov tha Rocky Mountain fur trade. He’s older than any ov us in tha trade ‘n’ tha’ makes Jim Bridger ah yonker fer ah fact!”

“Pleased to meet you, Josiah. We’ve heard stories of your adventures in the gun shop many times. Appears to me that rifle you’re carrying is one, my father, Sam Hawken built in his early years in St. Louis.”


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Pilgrim
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Hope you all found the latest input. It got covered up by "latest read" in the directory!!

Dave D
 
Posts: 97 | Location: Shelton, WA | Registered: 23 January 2010Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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“Yepper! Ordered it in ’29 ‘n’ it were delivered ta rondyvoo ov ’30. Hyar, have ah look.” Josiah dumped the priming powder and handed Fetchumunder to John Hawken, “Keerful, hit’s gotta load yet.”

“Ah’ve seed Josiah shoot tha wings off ah deerfly at 200 paces wit tha riflegun, John! Hits shor a punkin’!” Wootten exclaimed.

“Yes, I can believed that, Dick. Pa’s rifles always hit plum center, as the saying goes amongst you mountaineers, just as long as the shooter did his job.” Said John, grinning, as he looked the rifle over carefully, noticing the subtle features his father had developed as a gunsmith. “The touch hole looks a bit enlarged; I suggest that you let me fit a white gold touch hole liner. Any other problems that need attention, Josiah?”

“Nary ah one. Been ah true shooter since tha furst shot, hit has.”

The row of twenty-two close-set brass tacks along the belly of the stock between the heel of the butt plate and trigger guard caught John’s attention. He had seen brass tack decorations on rifles and trade guns before, some had stories to go along with them, and others didn’t.

As his hand touched the tacks, Wootten offered excitedly, “Them tacks on Josiah’s rifle ist one fer each man, red, white, ar brown, ol’ Buck has laid under. Aint thet right, Buck?”

Peering at Hawken, “Yes…..less ah few ah aint added ov late……Let’s leave’er at thet, Dick.” Josiah answered as he shifted his gaze to Wootten. John arched his eyebrows and looked expectantly at Josiah, but held back the question on his tongue.

A slight tension was in the air as Fetchumunder was handed back to Josiah; he reprimed the pan, closed the anvil, and cradled the rifle.

“I see you’re looking at these shotguns, anyone of them catch your eye.” John queried amicaly.

“Ah wuz lookin’ fer ah flinter ta replace one thet was lost this winter. Onliest thang, thar all percussed ‘cept fer them ol’ fusils tha clerk hast brung out.” Josiah went on to explain to John his concerns about the percussion system and that he preferred a flintlock for use in the mountains.

“These percussion guns are very reliable, Josiah, and every trader and post has ample supply of the caps and cone replacements. The percussion system has gained considerable use over the past twelve years by trappers and others.”

“Ah aint doubtin’ thet none, John. Hits jest tha way ma stick floats.”

“Well then, let’s take a look at this one.” John said as he reached for one of the percussed guns, “I built this one myself, it’s a twelve gauge. It’s patterned after the fine Mortimer guns that we see in the shop on occasion. Since it uses a drum and cone, I can replace the drum with a touchhole liner. And replacing the percussion lock with a flintlock is easy, as I happen to have several with me in my tool kit. Here, feel the heft and balance.”

Josiah took the gun, looked it over, brought it to his shoulder, swung it through a couple of times, and checked the balance. “Hit’s ah fine gun, ah bit muzzle heavy ‘n’ ah might long fer carrin’ onna horse, tho. Aint got ah rear sight neither.”

“It’s got a 36 inch barrel; I can shorten the barrel to 28 inches if you want. Bird shot pattern won’t be much good at a distance, but a round ball and buckshot would work well. There is a mold that throws a ball and eight buck shot per pour that goes along with it.” John continues, “If you take it, I can fit a good rear sight and your choice of brass or silver blade front sight to it when I change out the lock and shorten the barrel. I can fit that touch hole liner to your rifle then, too.”

“Thet sounds fine ta me, John.”


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
Picture of Walkingeagle
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Xfox,
Just wanted ya to know that the story's awesome. Keep it coming please.
Walk
 
Posts: 342 | Location: Alberta, Canada | Registered: 15 January 2005Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Hiya, fellas!

I've been down with a cold for the past week and it really whacked the ol'brain cells, but starting to get over it.

Will post more of the story in a couple of days. Thanks to all of you that are enjoying it.

Regards, xfox


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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After making arrangements to have the cart-full of supplies delivered to his camp, Josiah, John Hawken and Dick Wootten headed over to the blacksmith shop. The smithy had said Hawken could use the post drill press and vise to make the changes to Josiah’s guns. While John was working on the guns, Josiah and Wootten took some time to catch up on their travels.

“Camped overnight with Stitch ‘n’ Brokenhand on tha trail from Westport. Stitch tolt us ye were hyar ‘n’ aboot tha fight onna Clarks Fork. Good thang them snakes hearts wernt inta it none,” Wootten commented.

“Waugh……it could ‘ave turn sour inna hurry iffen they had press it some,” Josiah replied, “Whars yer stick float, Dick?”

“Me ‘n’ Hawken ar headed down ta tha south. Gonna go ta Bents’ furst then on ta tha Santy Fe Trail ‘n’ Taos, whar we’ll meet up wit Chris Carson.”

“Heard thet Kit was floating his stick down in Mexico territory. Thought aboot goin’ thet way myself ah time er two. Gonna head down inta tha territory alon’ tha Grande River ‘n’ then ova inta tha Uintas.”

Wootten mulled that over for a bit and advised Josiah.

“Got word down tha trail thet tha Utes mighten be fixin’ ta raise som trouble fer tha Mexicans inna San Luis Valley. ‘peers tha Mexicans aint been trading’ fair wit’em ‘n’ them Utes want blood ‘n’ skelps.”

“Iffen tha Blackfeet aint skelped me, I reckon tha Utes won’t be much trouble fer me,” Josiah mused.

“Jest tha same, Buck, watch yer backtrail.”

They continued to exchange mountain news while waiting for John to finish working on the guns.

Meanwhile, Hawken drilled out the touchhole on Fetchumunders’ barrel, tapped the hole and fitted a white gold touchhole liner. He also checked the sear and tumbler of the flintlock and polished a couple of rough spots; then checked the fit of the anvil to the pan. He reassembled the rifle and checked the lock operation, satisfied with it, he began working on the shotgun.

John removed the percussion lock, unpinned the barrel, and unthreaded the drum. He fitted a white gold touchhole liner to the barrel; using his adjustable square, he then cut the barrel to twenty eight inches, chamfered the bore and outside of the muzzle. Next, the barrel was clamped in the vise and he carefully marked a centerline from breech to muzzle in order to line up the sights that were going to be fitted to the barrel. Using his soldering iron, a one-inch by four inch pointed copper heat sink attached to an iron and wood handle, heated in the forge, John silver soldered a turtle based silver blade sight one and a half inches back from the muzzle. Having used a magnetized front and rear sight placed along the barrel to determine the best sight picture that Josiah could see, Hawken filed a tennon in the barrel at the measured distance and set the rear sight. He relocated one of the ramrod ferrules on the barrel and made up a new ramrod. The previous ramrod would become a wiping stick for the gun. Putting the shotgun back together, he fitted the Ashmore waterproof pan flintlock to the stock. A flint was added to the cock and then snapped it a couple of times to see the spark pattern. Satisfied, he called Josiah over to take a look at the finished work.

“Here, Josiah, give a heft and sight it for fit,” as John handed him the shotgun.

Josiah took the gun, fitted it to his shoulder and looked down the barrel, “It fits well, John. Let’s blow smoke ‘n’ see whar it hits.”

Wootten drew a charcoal vertical line on a split plank and added a cross line as an aim point. He then set the plant up about 25 yards out and hustled back to John and Josiah. John found some .710 balls in one of his toolboxes and handed them to Josiah.

Carefully measuring out 90 grains of powder and pouring it down the barrel, Josiah placed a ball on a strip of greased deerskin patching, pressed it easily into the muzzle and cut the patch. With the wiping stick ramrod he pushed the patched ball down the barrel onto the powder charge. Trickling a dash of powder into the pan, the anvil was closed, the hammer set, and then taking careful aim, Josiah fired. The nearly 540 grain ball hit the plank 5 inches below the cross line and two inches to the right. The next two balls hit very close to the first.

John took the gun, and with a practiced eye, carefully filed down the front sight. Several more shots fired and filings brought the point of impact to 2 inches above the cross line, but still 2 inches to the right. John thought about moving the rear sight slightly, but then thought he would check the squareness of the muzzle first.

Taking his adjustable square, he set it on the right side of the barrel and then the left side. There was a small amount of difference with the left side being slightly longer. John filed the left side of the muzzle carefully, checking several times with the square. He then handed the gun back to Josiah.

The next shot fired placed the ball on the center of the target line and 2 inches above the cross line. Two more balls were fired and the point of impact overlapped the previous holes.

All three men grinned at each other. “Thet’s some na!” Wootten exclaimed, “Haint bad fer ah smoothie!” as he clapped John and Josiah on their backs.


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
Posts: 532 | Location: Bitterroot Valley | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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Fetchumunder was then fired three times to test the new touchhole liner and the tuned lock. Josiah was very pleased with the smooth, quick action of the flintlock and the nearly instant ignition of the powder charge.

“Walna, John, how many skins ya need fer us ta call it squar?”

“I figure eight dollars ought to do. I’ve given you some credit for the percussion lock and drum,” John Hawken replied.

“Ya take reales fer tha trade?” Josiah asked as he was counting out the silver coinage.

“That’ll do fine, Josiah. Figure the reales will come in handy down to Taos.”

With settlement accomplished, Josiah bid the two men good day, as he needed to get to his camp and organize his newly purchased goods. It was a good thing that he did so, a late afternoon thunder storm passed through providing quite a show of lightning and a cold, torrential downpour. The storm didn’t last long, just kicked up a fuss, but soaking everything, person, and animal that wasn’t under cover. Josiah’s brush and tarp lean-to proved up to the task of keeping him and his gear dry.

The next morning’s sunrise provided another bright sunny start to the day. Pan bread, made in his new skillet, a strong tin cup of Lapsang tea, and a couple of pieces of buffalo jerky was Josiah’s breakfast. As the morning temperature rose, Josiah looked down at the well worn, stained, and ripening clothes he was wearing, sniffed at the shirtsleeves and then looked warily at the river waters.

Then on impulse, cutting a large sliver of the new soap, grabbing some of the new clothes, he headed down to the river to bathe and wash his hair. Seven months had passed since the last time he had bathed so thoroughly, apart from the occasional wash-up. Other than the calzoneras and wool blanket shirt worn over a cotton shirt, all other trousers and shirts he owned were lost with the packhorse that went through the Yellowstone River ice. It felt good to get out of the grime of the long worn clothing.

When he finished bathing and shaving, Josiah stood in the warm sun soaking in its warmth, combing out his hair that he would braid and wrap with red trade cloth when dry. Taking up the tin of Balm of Gilead, he rubbed a dab of the balm into the heels and ball of each foot, and then pulled on a pair of the new sox. After, he pulled on a pair of the brown denim trousers, one of the new checked shirts was donned, a new pair of the moccasins followed, and to top it all off, the new flat brim hat. Josiah felt plum luxuriated standing there, clean and comfortable, in his new clothes.

Back at the lean-to, he rummaged around for the candies he had purchased, spurred on by a sudden sweet tooth desire. Finding the canvass sack that held them, he reached in and brought out a piece and popped it in his mouth. The fresh sweetness and flavorful bite of the peppermint candy tasted good to Josiah, another of the niceties that he had missed for so long. It brought a smile to his lips.

“Keerful ol’coon, ya jest mighten git ta likin’ this hyar foofarawin’ too much ‘n’ git ta being soft ‘n’ lazy in yor late yeers,” Josiah mused to himself.

Most of his supplies had been divided into equal portions and these in turn would be divided between the two mules to carry in their packs. He did not want to lose nearly everything he owned again by having it carried in one pack.

John Hawken and Dick Wootten stopped by the camp to say their goodbyes to Josiah.

“It was a pleasure to meet someone that takes such pride and care of a rifle that my father made. Here’s hoping we meet again somewhere along the trails, Josiah.” John ventured as they shook hands.

"Keep yor skelp locked down tight, Buck!” Wootten offered, “Iffing ye gits ta Taos, look fer us, we’ll be around some’eres.”

“Tha pleasure war mine John, ‘n’ ah’ll be shor ta looks ya up iffin’ ma stick floats thet ways, Dick.” Josiah replied in parting, “Watch tha Pawnee doan steal ya blind afore ye git ta tha Santy Fe Trail!”

As he watched them leave, Josiah had the anxious feeling of wanting to get on down the trail to somewhere, anywhere, it didn’t really mater, he just wanted to be on the move again. Most of the wintering Mountain Men had left the fort for their adventures, leaving only a small handful that were going to hunt for the post or were heading east.

He made the decision to leave in the early hours of morning the next day and felt a relief in having done so. This afternoon and evening would be busy with the final preparations for departing the fort.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Crossfox,


The forest is a wilderness only to those that fear it, silent only to those that hear nothing. The forest is a friend to those that dwell within its' nature and it is filled with the sounds of life to those that listen.
 
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