Posted by Hurry Harry on February 20, 2000 at 19:01:44:
In Reply to: Re: Bounty Notice Posted at Bumppo's Tavern posted by She Who Tracks La Longue Carabine on February 20, 2000 at 16:24:30:
: Okay, jest come on in and set yerself down on that log by the fire, Hurry. Nothin' like a bowl o' fresh squirrel stew and a jug of Bumppo's finest ale to warm ye on this wintery night.
: Now, ye're askin' about why I'm lookin' for La Longue Carabine. True, I know he goes by a lot o' names - more names than some folks care to hear him reel off, in most cases. Got a string o' names, myself, and some of 'em not near so flatterin' as those bespeakin' his reputation - but that's another story. Have some ground red peppers with them chunks o' squirrel, Hurry? - helps to cover the rodent taste a bit. Like you, I knowed him by the name o' Natty long afore he collected all those fancy Delaware names, but don't too many folks call him by his real name anymore.
: As to why I'm lookin' for him, I come across some information a couple o' years ago that's like to warm the cockles of his honest and upright heart. So I traded in my settlement skirts for a suit o' buckskins and a good huntin' shirt, sold my piano and bought me a good rifle and canoe, got some provisions from the Mohicaan Bountyess and set off from Kinderhook up the Hudson and the Mohawk to start trackin' him. Fill yer ale mug agin, Hurry? Goes down right smooth, doesn't it! By that time he had made himself famous in that hoohah up at Fort William Henry, but he was long gone from there by the time I got that far. Howsever, I knowed he was now called La Longue Carabine by the French and the Mingos, and then dropped the Bump and used Poe for a last name. Does seem like he's tryin' to avoid bein' found by changin' his name all the time, but I just gotta find him and tell him what I know. Have some more o' that stew - plenty left, and it don't hold over right well to a second day. I went out by the Glimmerglass in the company of The Old Crone last year and hung around a while, but no sign of him there either, although his old hut is still standin' by the lakeside. So I came back and settled down here in Mohicanland and thought I'd stay a while to see if I could pick up any rumors of where he might could be huntin'. Sorry, that's the last o' the ale, but I got a jug of spruce settin' back here behind the barrel o' cornmeal. That do ye? So what have ye heard of old Natty, Hurry? I'd be beholden to ye for any new trails I can set off on the find the younker.
: She Who Tracks
Mmmmph, brmmmph, chew, gulp. Well, that's right nice of ye. Good stew, fine ale, bottle of spruce ye say? Buuurp, 'scuse. Gotta toothpick?
Well, I can't say I'm surprised yet another female is interested in ol' Natty. He always seemed to make some impression but danged if I could ever figure out what it was. Some of 'em gets downright pushy, which never set right by me. Now, I got another name meself, given by the sons of the forest, who tend to take a measure of them they meet. I'm called Big Pine, a fair enough name to answer to, as it seems to fit my measure.
Now, Hawkeye and me we go way back, but he's been scarce in these parts of late. I'd bet my moccasins he ain't been bested by the Mingo, nor by them worthless Frenchies. He's met them both before and got away, to their consternation. And I don't think he's got hisself saddled with a wife and some wild woods brats, neither. Ye say you've got something to tell him? Say, this spruce has a bite to it. How 'bout another slash, iffn ye ain't savin' it for a particlar reason.
H.H.