Posted by Seamus on February 14, 2001 at 18:02:45:
February ye 23, 1759
Many Flags and Magdalena
Three Tales and TwoBottle
near Allemangel, Berks County
Dear Cousins,
Nancy and I send warmest greetings to you, and hope that this letter finds you in good health. We are well; all traces of my wound have all but disappeared from my forehead, I do not drool uncontrollably anymore, and I am nearly as strong as I was before. I have the Good Lord to thank for sparing me, and Nancy, Uncle Angus and father...Quasi... to thank for my recovery. I can never repay them. I do still sip the amber liquid daily.
I must tell you of an incident that occurred here the other day that has created no little concern around here. I had been out in the woods, splitting firewood to help regain my strength and rebuild muscles which had shrunken and gotten very weak through my ordeal, when I heard a loud crashing coming up through the woods. At first I thought a bear had been pushed from its winter den and was charging headlong, as they do, through the underbrush. I dropped my axe and grabbed my rifle, and was surprised to see, not a bear at all, but old Bristlebrush ripping this way, then that way at top speed and hanging on for dear life was Sign Talker! He managed to haul back on the reins and get the critter stopped, and as I walked over to him, he rolled off the travois into the snow and arose, shaking all over. He signed that “Someday that beast is gonna be the death of me!” I laughed, hugged him, and signed to him that I was happy to see him. I invited him into the cabin to warm himself by the fire and have a smoke with me.
As we sat next to the fireplace, silent, and smoking...passing a pipe back and forth between us, I sensed he had important news. He was puffing and drawing on the pipe much faster than one does when relaxed. It was as if he wanted to burn the bowlful quickly. After we finished smoking, he told Nancy and me about your sighting of Red Bud. After he had finished, I recalled my neighbor, Richard Wagner, running off crazily a few weeks ago screaming something, which now I recognized as “Red Bud!” And I also understood the danger we faced, should this vermin show his face around here. I rechecked my rifle, which I had only recently gotten from Johann Schreit, the gunsmith in Womelsdorf, to replace the one I lost at Ligonier, and assuring myself it was loaded and primed, hung it over the cabin door with my bag and powder horn alongside of it. I stuck my tomahawk and knife into the log next to the door, so they were instantly at hand.
Needless to say, Nancy was terribly upset by all this. She had never encountered anything like what Sign Talker had described. She was very afraid that our serenity here in the woods was in danger of being lost. I told her I would not leave her alone until he was destroyed.
We invited Sign Talker to have dinner with us, as we were having a fine venison roast, carrots and potatoes, with fresh-made bread which Nancy had just taken from the fireplace oven, and apple dumplings which she had just set into the oven. They would be ready by the time dinner was over. And there was plenty to go around. He gratefully accepted our invitation.
After dinner, and another smoke, we turned in. Sign Talker would not stay in the cabin with us, but preferred to sleep on his travois under a large pile of furs.
In the morning, he was gone. We never heard him leave.
That afternoon, Nancy went to the woodshed for firewood while I prepared to return to my splitting. I heard a horrid scream and I knew at once what it was! I grabbed my rifle and charged to the woodshed, and as I rounded the corner of it, I saw this short, fat, red ball of disgusting odor trying to pull Nancy away towards the pines behind the woodshed.
She pulled one arm loose from him as I screamed, “RED BUD!!!” and as he whipped his head around to look at me, Nancy spun and kicked him square in the breechcloth! He grunted, retched, and let go of her to grab and hold his bruised...well, you know...and fell to the snowy ground, rolling around, retching and moaning, and making disgusting guttural noises.
She ran to me and clung tightly. I held her a moment, and then told her to get into the cabin and open it for no one but me, and to take the knife and ‘hawk and retreat to the loft and to wait for me. She let go of me and ran to the cabin, slamming the door. I heard the wooden bar drop into place.
I turned to face Red Bud....and he was gone. I picked up his trail in the snow quite easily, since he left an easy track, what with falling and puking as he was. I guess she really mashed ‘em! I trailed him about a quarter mile and got a very good look at him as he broke across a large clearing 75 yards ahead of me. I snapped the Schreit to my shoulder, and touched the trigger. When the smoke cleared, I saw nothing. Reloading as I ran, I got to the spot I had seen him, and there in the snow was the unmistakable sign that he had slipped and fallen. My ball passed over him harmlessly.....so I thought. Then I saw a fleck of blood on the snow, then another, then another on down the trail of his retreat. I had winged him, but not seriously. Unfortunately he will hardly notice his wound. Had he not fallen at the instant he did, he would have joined his brother in a front row seat in Hell.
I returned to the cabin, as it was getting dark, and Nancy and I spent a restless night.
We are on our guard constantly now, Cousins, but I do not think he will return here for a long time. I would be very cautious and alert, if I were you. He may work his way in that direction.
Tell Uncle Angus and Quasi to be alert, also, and advise them to return here at once.
Pax aye!
Seamus