Home Forums Miscellaneous Topics Humor, Jokes, and Riddles Huntin' with Gunwriters - Pts 3 & 4

Huntin’ with Gunwriters - Part Three
copyright 2004 - Stephen Redgwell

Mercifully, they could all ride a horse. That was a relief! Through the years, I've dragged a lot of hunters over the trails. They all said they knew how to ride, but I think it was a bus they was talkin' about. Anyway, with the extra supplies and people, the trip back would be an overnighter. Since I had a fishin' pole handy, I figured to catch some pickerel and give 'em to Rene for to fry up when we made camp that night. Funny, the Yanks called them fish 'walleyes'. Maybe they got bigger peepers in Texas...

We rode about two thirds of the way back, which I guess would be about 40 miles, and stopped at Moon Lake for the night. Everybody got off their rides and Joe and Elmer tended to them. Elmer sure knew a bunch about horses! You know, every once in a while I actually DID get clients that knew their way around animals.

I hoped they were all as smart when it came to bushcraft. In them days, we used canvas tents. They're some heavy and so you only took one for sleepin' in and made the rest of the camp out of whatever was handy. Pine and birch trees is everywhere, so there was never a problem makin' lean tos, bedding or findin' firewood.

"Hey fellows, I'm goin' down to the lake and get supper. You guys gonna start makin' camp?"


Ken

I reckoned that Joe and Rene could set up everythin'. The Yanks could help. This would be a test too. When you go into the bush with strangers, a guide's gotta do most of the work. Okay, so we're paid for it, but that ain't the point. What happens to them guys if me or my buddies got hurt? Then there's the part about making them feel like they're part of the adventure. Oh sure, you gotta watch your charges like a hawk, but even a greenhorn is good for somethin'. Even if it's gettin' into trouble.

When I seen 'em last, Joe and Elmer was makin' up a place for the horses. Rene and that Ken fellow - he didn't talk much - was startin' to get the tent up. Good. That meant less work for yours truly. Just between you and me, that's most of the reason I always brung friends along!

I spent about an hour at the lake and brought back a couple dozen three pounders. Upon returning to camp, I was floored! The place looked better than anything I'd ever seen Joe and Rene do.

The sleepin' tent was up. They even made a cover for the horses, over by the trees. Beside that, they even built a nice lean to with tools and other gear inside. The food was hoisted up over a tree limb in a sack. The fire pit was burnin' away, with tree stumps all around it, as seats. And Elmer was cookin'! Rene was sittin' on a stump next to him, drinkin' out of his canteen. They was all laughin' and shootin' the breeze.

"Hey Rene, here's the fish. Got the flour ready?" And I handed him a couple of stringers of fresh pickerel. "What's Elmer doin'?"

"Hey cowlips, he's fryin' up onions and potatoes. Smells good eh?" Rene took a big swallow out of his canteen and started to blow his nose into the sleeve of his shirt, but stopped. Grinnin' like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, he pulled a bunch of soft, white paper out of his chest pocket. "Hey look! Elmer give me some Kleenex! It's a throw away handkerchief for rich people. It's from down south. Fancy eh?"

Well, it was obvious that Rene was into the booze. It was his own, made in a private still. A little rough around the edges, but smooth enough to drink without mix. As I looked around, I seen that everybody was drinkin', either from a canteen or a mess tin. Everyone that was, except Jack. He had a bottle and glass out, sittin' on a stump. He just sat motionless, takin' in the "ambiance" as he called it - smokin' a tailor made cigarette. He looked like an ad from Outdoor Life magazine and I told him so.

Ken spoke for about the first time since we started back to Nerly Corners.

"Jack's kinda that way. He likes his liquor out of a bottle when sitting around a fire. Just don't get him talking about his other trips. Elmer thinks he's sissified, don't you Elmer?"

"Ah, he's just Jack." Elmer replied. "Can't say as I know too much about him except for what I've read. I think that he thinks he's the great white hunter, eh Bwana?" And he pointed his thumb in Jack's direction. "Probably from too much schoolin'."

That got Jack riled up. "Is there something wrong with having an education? It's really too bad for you, Elmer. You could have gone a lot farther if you had a sheepskin. You're bright enough, but when you open your mouth, 'stupid' comes out!"

"Yeah? Well Mr. 270, I told ya before and I'll tell ya again. If ya want a showdown, I'll outshoot ya, outride ya, AND, since we're already parked, I'll outdrink ya! Mr. Fancy Pants has gotta have glass in the bush! Did your schoolin' ever explain what would happen if your bag of booze ever fell off the horse? You ain't havin' none of mine. If they really taught ya right, they would have explained that lots of stupid people graduate from colleges every year. I believe I'm lookin' at one right now!"

This time, me, Rene and Joe gave each other "the look". We was confused and didn't understand all their fancy talk. Was these two gonna fight? Rene, who by this time was beginnin' to feel the drink, spoke up.

"Hey beanpole! Are you gonna let da little runt talk to you like dat? I'd punch his lights out!"

Huntin’ with Gunwriters - Part Four
copyright 2004 - Stephen Redgwell

Rene and Elmer were the same size and seemed to be cut from the same cloth, from what little I seen so far. This could get ugly, but I'd be the first to admit that havin' a knock down, drag out fight would make the night's entertainment. Instead of fightin' though, they both started laughin'. Then Jack said,

"Elmer, you have a few things over me. First, you're the king of ugly. Second, you're obviously the viscount of verbal scat! Both of which, I'll admit, have me hopelessly running second. I'll say this too. Having you along is a marvelous substitute for Laurel and Hardy! A toast everyone! A toast to our esteemed baron of BS, Elmer!"

Me and the other guys didn't really know what all that meant. But it was a good excuse for to have a drink. In the mean time, Ken had finished cleanin' the fish - making sure to coat the fillets in beer batter - and was cookin' a bunch in the fryin' pan.

Time to take five and eat! We'd get to the serious drinkin' later...

By the time supper was finished, it was gettin' dark and everybody had their bottle out. Me, Joe and Rene had our hooch. The Americans had store bought stuff. I guess I should explain about the hooch...

Buyin' store bought booze was for special occasions like weddings or funerals. It was too expensive to be drinkin' everyday anyhow. And beer? It was too bulky and hard to transport when you're in the bush. The only time we drunk beer was at the Legion. The smart drinker always had his still cookin', whenever he was outdoors. Besides, it was better for to have booze on hand and ready to be drank, rather than goin' into town.

This was how things worked. Three times a year, the CNR train brung a carload of potatoes into Geraldton for to sell to the public. Not a single tuber made it to the grocery store though. The locals bought it by the pound and it disappeared - far from the pryin' eyes of the police and the town busy bodies. The guys would whisk it away to their private distilleries for to be made into their own special blend.

Well, that's how come the guys and me had our own hooch. We all had a few stills each and kept a ready supply of "aged stock" buried in the ground nearby. We also had a still at Moon Lake, which was between home and Geraldton. It was there for them days when we brought folks back to Warton or had to go on a shoppin' trip for store bought supplies. It made life easier and lightened up the travel load.


Joe and Rene workin’ the still.

Anyhow, Rene might not have bin much of a cook, but he wuz an artist when it come to makin' hooch. I don't know if it was his French blood or just a natural talent, but that boy could brew! So what he done was go to our secret stash of aged stock and brung back a vinegar bottle filled with a gallon of Ontario's finest. Now we was ready for the evenin'!

Elmer was the first to notice the arrival of the bottle. It kinda figured. Like I said before, him and Rene was a lot alike.

"Hey Frenchy, what ya got there?" You could see that Elmer was thirsty.

"Oh dis? It's my special bush brew, made da old-fashioned way, with cheesecloth filters and air-cooled for to set the alcohol. Smoother dan a baby's bum you know! Want some?"

"You bet! There's nothin' finer than moonshine and a campfire when you're out with friends. In the States you'd be called a moonshiner." Elmer walked over to Rene with an empty mess tin.

Jack spoke. "Now Elmer, you be careful with that stuff. We have to break camp early in the morning. We didn't pay these fellows to be layabouts."

"Mind your own business, Jack. Who the hell made you everyone's den mother! A man has a right to a little 'shine. Besides, it makes for good international relations. Isn't that right Frenchy?"

"I guess. I just like to drink..." Rene said.

So now, with all of us sittin' around the fire, the stories started. I told them writers about the plans for the next couple a weeks. You know, callin' up the moose, the rut around here and the best places to set up. It was warm enough yet for the moose to still be on the beaver meadows.

Them writers took their turn tellin' us about huntin' antelopes, mountain goats and African game. Jack was really good at them stories. Heck, they all was!

I asked Jack what he brung for to hunt moose with.

"Well Al, I thought that a 30/06 would perform splendidly. Since we were traveling all this way, I have a Model 70 with a receiver sight on it. I'll check the zero tomorrow, but they're made to take abuse and stay on target. What about the rest of you?"

Both Ken and Elmer said that they had Model 70 30/06 rifles too, except that they was usin' regular iron sights. Us guys all had 303s.

Rene was first to start the teasin'. Helped in large part by a belly full of home brew.

"Okay you writer people, da 303 is da best 'ere in da bush you know. Dem fancy rifles cost a lot of money, but dey don't shoot no better! When we takes you to da spots, you better shoot a big moose, 'cause dat would be a waste to bring a pretty rifle all da way here for nothin'."

Joe had to get his shot in too. "I keep readin' about them rifles, but nobody has one up this way. They're way too much money and kick too much for to be any use in the bush. Ain't Winchesters them guns what won the West?"

"Yes." Elmer explained, “But they were actually older lever action rifles like the Model 1873."

"Oh yeah. I got me a 300 Savage Model 99 at the house. I use that for all kinds of animals. I didn't bring it this trip though." Joe had the largest collection of rifles I'd ever seen. I think it was about six. Joe continued, "So, let me see, I got a 99, a couple a 303s, a 30/30 Marlin and TWO shotguns." He was especially proud of his arsenal. The rest of us only had two. A 303 and a shotgun.