By Randy Sweet
 
 

Early Saturday morning through the misty fog came two fellow woodsmen. We were all hoping to have dry, but not overly hot weather this August day. A party of us would be scouting into White-eyes country for a couple days.

We are to meet Frank and Linda Pritchard, who have a homestead not far from Whetzel's Rock. Also Gary and Cheryl Pakulski from south of the Maumee River.

Of the two who have me at my cabin at Toby's Run, Jeremiah, has a dog named Sadie with him. My usual scouting partner Curtis Reynolds brings only himself. But what a welcome sight he is.

I bid my wife a fair well and leave her with my gun and dog. As I will be carrying only my bow and arrows. With provisions packed, we set ourselves in the  general direction. I've been chosen to guide us until Jeremiah has reached familiar ground. He has been on hunts to this place before. On the trail we add another to our party. Tom Stanek, who  has journey in from the Coyahoga. He too has hunted this land in years past.

We stopped at a small blockhouse and talked with the people there. They say it has been quiet there this summer. Most of the young warriors are off to the southwest. But it's still a good feeling knowing you have the extra help of a good dog.

As we made our way up through the late August woods it could be felt that Autumn was approaching. Slowly and single file we steeped. The rains had been plentiful this summer and the forest floor was soft and quiet.

Suddenly about two rods in front of us, four deer leaped from their cover. White spots could be seen on some. Sadie took chase only about 20 paces or so off our path. Then returned. No shots were fired, not knowing who our company might be. We past several ripe pokeberry bushes. Curtis said they could not be eaten by people but that the Indians used them for dye. Most of the elderberries had been eaten.

The four of us looked for suitable site to make camp as we moved about. We came to a large rock coming out of the earth. It was the size of a two-story cabin. Tom and Jeremiah could see the blackened rock where fires had burned. After a short rest which we partook of water and jerk, we made our way  back around to see if any of the remaining party had arrived. Making our way through the woods we were met by Frank and Linda and  their ever-present dog, Molly was with them.
Greetings were exchanged. Frank said he had a general idea on the way we had departed and followed what little sign we had left.

We were on the move once again. Scouting for sign of Indians and game. We wanted to make for a safe night's rest. Jeremiah guided us up a ridge to check for a campsite. The place looked good.
The gear was cached. The party headed for the Indian rock houses. Long before European set foot upon this land, native Americans used this place to sharpen  and shape their stone tools. Jeremiah said it was a place of power for the Indians. The entire party was quite intrigued. Returning to ready camp and gather firewood, some of the party went to replenish the water supply. Tom was making sure  we were not being followed, by circling the area  once more. With Tom's report of no sign, we started the fire.

Jeremiah provided fresh buffalo for our evening fare. Before they arrived back with water, Cheryl and Gary entered camp. They had  traveled far and were quite tired. We had a large group now. Numbering 8 and 2 dogs.

The dogs played as the meat roasted over the fire. Along with some rice cooking in a boiler. Some of us ate dried pears and cranberries. Others made ready their blankets and such. All were set on having a dry night, but the sky didn't look in agreement. Super finished, voices whispered in the night. News, hopes, and fears were exchanged between friends.
To lay down on the forest floor was a relief. Everyone had a long day. Sometimes in the night the rain started to fall, the lighting flashed and the thunder boomed. Tom was with but a blanket, as were Cheryl, and Gary.
Morning came quick. The rain had let up for the  most part. Tom, Cheryl, And Gary had weathered the storm out. A small fire had been built to dry blankets and prepare hot drinks. We broke camp and cashed the gear once again. Returning to the rock houses. From the rocks we could see across the valley floor and over a meadow on the next ridge. It's no wonder Jeremiah said this is a place of power. Indeed, your soul can feel it.
Tom once again made his way out to check for of hostiles. A few of us sighted and shot our long guns. Tom would fire a shot if we had any company.

We went back to the camp and got our gear. Making sure the fire was out. Our party departed this woods with hopes of returning soon. Slowly making our way back to the blockhouse, everyone said their farewells. All made haste in the direction of home before night would fall.

Randy Sweet