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Thread: Story of Handwalker Pratt

  1. #1
    Member Nukalpiaq's Avatar
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    Default Story of Handwalker Pratt

    Back in the old days when the traders and trappers used to get together to have Rendezvous a group of trappers after selling their furs decided to buy a half dozen jugs of whiskey from the trader. These old cusses hadn’t seen each other for a long time and had a lot of catching up to do and stories to tell. They decided to spend their evening drinking whiskey in an old abandoned log cabin on the outskirts of town where the town residents stayed away from, since most believed it was haunted. The trappers weren’t afraid, they were tough grizzled woodsmen that had spent a tough cold winter out in the wilderness and were glad for the shelter. No old wives tales were gonna keep them from their drinking and carrying on. When they reached the old abandoned cabin they lit the fire in the fireplace and commenced to passing the jugs around, they told stories of their season and the bad luck they had with trapping that winter. Weather was mighty cold and the population of critters was on a decline due to the number of new trappers coming into their trapping areas. Traders were always up to no good always telling them that fur prices were on a decline and the prices they were getting was the best they would get since times was a changing. As the whiskey jug was passed from one to the other each trapper taking a pull. The trappers’ stories starting getting more and more outrageous and unbelievable. They were all having a good time staying warm by the fire and visiting with one another. One old trapper told about the time when there were so many beaver that he was catching doubles in one trap, another old cuss was talking about the time back in the old days when traps had to be tied to live trees with deep roots because the beaver were so big that a stake in the ground couldn’t hold them and when you skinned them out the pelts were almost as big as moose hides. One young trapper after taking more pulls on the jug than the rest of them chimed in with a holler that he needed more whiskey to drink. Being the youngest and the quickest he got up and out the door he went, heading back to the trader’s log cabin to fetch a few more jugs since the whiskey was going fast. There were a lot of trappers in town for the Rendezvous and most were already liquored up hooting and a hollering and raising cain. Some of the less fortunate had fires burning outside since there was no shelter to be found anywhere in town. As he staggered in the darkness he seen a dark shadow up ahead on the trail but couldn’t make it out clearly since it was darker than the night itself. When he got a little closer it vanished right before his eyes or so he thought. When he passed the place on the trail where he thought it was he looked back over his shoulder but could not see a thing, all he saw was the faint glow of the fire shining through the broken window of the old log cabin that he had just left. He could hear the old trappers laughing and cussing. He turned back around and looked ahead into the darkness then all of a sudden he heard a noise behind him sounded like something was being dragged over the ground. He started walking faster not paying too much attention to it, he was a seasoned trapper had 3 seasons under his belt and he knew he could drink whiskey with the best of them, he would show them old cusses. He wasn’t afraid of the darkness he had seen his fair share of night critters over the past three seasons. As he walked along the sound of dragging behind him got louder and closer, he quickened his pace the sound quickened right behind him. He looked over his shoulder into the darkness but still couldn’t see a thing. He turned and up ahead on the trail he could make out a few campfires. He broke out into a fast run and as he neared the first fire he slowed down, the trappers sitting alongside looked at him and quickly turned away as he passed. The flames fluttered for a moment and a cold chill ran up the young trapper’s spine as he walked passed them down the trail. When he felt that cold chill he broke out into a fast run again, the sound of dragging kept right up with him no matter how fast he ran. As he ran he could feel his heart was pounding through his chest and his mind began racing with the stories that the old grizzled trappers told back at the cabin about some of the more unusual happening that occurred that winter while they were out on their traplines, strange happenings. As he neared the second fire he felt a little better as the fear started subsiding, he thought that more trappers would be sitting round the fire keeping warm during that cold night, but when he was near he realized the fire was abandoned and no one was in sight. As he slowed down to a walk he stopped to rest since he had been running hard, and as he did he felt a cold icy hand on his shoulder as he turned around to look, he heard a whisper in his ear “I need your legs”, he turned completely around and seen a decaying corpse of an old trapper dragging itself on the ground, it had no legs. Fear shot through him like cold icy hands as he tore loose from it’s grip, he turned and ran for all his worth. He ran as fast as he could but the legless corpse of the old trapper kept up with him, the old bones rattling as it dragged itself over the trail behind him. Off in the distance he could see the log cabin of the trader and the light still shown through the window. He ran faster with all his might, trying to reach the cabin before the old dead trapper caught up to him. When he reached the door he burst through and quickly slammed it behind him, relieved he slumped to the floor, breathing heavily. He looked up and seen the trader standing there with his old shotgun in hand, as he mumbled trying to get the words out about what happened the trader’s face went pale, the young trapper looked down where the trader was staring and he realized that his lower half was gone and all the time that he was running, he was running with his hands. End of story.

  2. #2
    Member Nukalpiaq's Avatar
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    This trapper's story obviously is a work of fiction, original idea came from my cousin who is also a good storyteller. I modified it a little to make it more interesting and detailed.

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    Member broncoformudv's Avatar
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    Thats another great story you sure have a knack for telling them. Hope to hear some more from you.

    Rob

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    Once again, great job and thanks. J.

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    Member tboehm's Avatar
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    Thanks for taking the time to share with us

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