By: Bears Butt


Sir Butt awakens as the dawning sky is showing it’s first light.  It is going to be a wonderful day in Common Ground and Sir Butt feels the strength and power of a new day.  So wonderful is his feeling he can hardly believe it.  He can see clearly the distant hills.  The beautiful clear sky.  Birds beginning to awaken and slowly offer their morning chirps and songs.  Sir Butt is very thankful for all that he has.  His health, his steed Something, his Cache, his Account and all the knowledge held deep in his mind.  He is thankful also for his skills as a dragon slayer and keeper of the land.  Making it safe for all the travelers going from their points A to their points B.  Sir Butt is very proud to be in the position he is in.

Sir Butt makes ready his morning cup of lamb broth and begins to heat it at the fire.  Something is tethered nearby and makes motion that he would like to be released to relieve himself.  Pawing the ground with his right front hoof.  Sir Butt sees to it that Something is released from the tether and off into the forest he goes.

As Sir Butt looks into the fire and waits patiently for his brew to heat he feels a crispness in the air.  The breeze causes him to shiver just a bit.  The weather in Common Ground is always pleasant but as the year progresses and draws closer to the beginning of a new year the air always takes on this briskness that he feels.  Life is good, Sir Butt thinks to himself.  This is the time of year when villagers all around Common Ground tend to travel more than usual.  Visiting other villages and the folks that abound in those villages.  Why?  Well the answer to that is anyone’s’ guess.  Perhaps it is just the cooling of the air that causes folks to want to move about and stay comfortable and warm.  Perhaps they just feel they need to go and see folks they have not seen in quite some time.  Having thought those thoughts Sir Butt knows he must travel on every trail and path in Common Ground to make certain the ways are clear of the dangers. (1)


Finished with his brew and a taste of hard bread from his pouch, Sir Butt mounts up on Something to begin his quick task of riding every trail and pathway in Common Ground.  This is not going to be an easy task as there are many, many, many (did I say many?) trails and paths through Common Ground.  He must travel them all and make certain all dangers are gone before the majority of the travelers begin their yearly journeys.

Sir Butt heels Something slightly and off they go down the nearest trail.  Sir Butt checks his Cache which is always at his left side and all is well.  Clickity Clack goes Somethings hooves against the rocks in the trail and the sound becomes a melody ringing in Sir Butt’s head.  Add to that the sounds of the forest birds and it brings on a very pleasant sound that would be pleasant to everyone hearing it.  Ahh what a wonderful life I have, thinks Sir Butt and he pats Something on the side of his neck.  Something feels the same way and raises and then lowers his head and neck two times.  Sir Butt has always thought that Something knows exactly what he, himself is thinking at all times and this gesture just proved it once again.

Suddenly Something begins to shrink and Sir Butt grasps for Cache and pulls it quickly out of his Account.  Looking all around for whatever it is that Something has shrunk up about.  They have only travelled a short distance from where they spent the night.  Why did this unknown demon not come into their camp during the night and ravage them and their camp?  Something continues to shrink smaller and smaller as they continue.  The trail is beginning to narrow a bit and Sir Butt knows the unknown beast is lurking near the narrowest part of the trail.  He halts Something just short of the narrowest part and stands tall atop Something.  Of course that puts his head about four feet above the ground as Something has shrunken so much.  Sir Butt can barely see above the growth alongside the trail.  A rustling on the right side shows Sir Butt just where the beast is hiding and he is ready as can be for whatever is about to come.

Up and over the forest underbrush comes a rushing and gnashing head, mouth wide as wide and teeth razor sharp.  It comes straight at Sir Butt and Something as quickly as a beast can move.  Sir Butt recognizes the beast as a fierce Rusher Gnasher.  The only dragon in Common Ground that does not strike it’s victims during dark hours.  And that is why they were not ravaged during the night as they camped.  The Rusher Gnasher is almost upon Sir Butt when Cache strikes the beast alongside it’s narrow neck and off comes its head with a bounce!  Sir Butt feels Something growing again between his legs and knows there was only one Rusher Gnasher Dragon along that portion of the trail.  “Good Work Something”, calls out Sir Butt.  “You were really on top of that one my good steed”!  And as Something continued to grow, Sir Butt could see way, way down the trail again and sitting on Somethings back he is nearly 7 feet taller than the undergrowth along side the trail.  The Rusher Gnasher is deceased and only a slight steam is coming from the neck and severed head.  The cool of the morning makes clear evidence of that.

“Well, Something, this day is starting out quite wonderful indeed”!  Exclaimed Sir Butt.  And they continued down the trail.

Have you not wondered why Sir Butt does not wipe the blood from Cache after severing a dragon head?  Well, for your education, only one dragon has fluids that remotely resemble blood and that is the small roundish Purple Dasher.  It consumes protein in any form it can find and it must eat that protein with wild plum fruit.  That is why it is only found in one small area of Common Ground.  And in reality (if you can call this reality) no dragon has blood running through its veins.  Only sticky, stinky fluids.

On down the trail Sir Butt and Something find themselves basking in the early morning sun rays as they plod along.  Sir Butt looks up at the dew on the trees and notices faint glints of colors.  Reds, yellows, blues, oranges, greens…every color of the rainbow is glinting and he marvels at the sight.  He has seen such a site before, but only once.  This time there seems to be some sort of aura about it that drew his attention.  He is very pleased with the site.  It is on the tips of nearly every leaf on every tree.  Truly amazing.  (2)


As the day goes on and Sir Butt travels down the path looking to make sure it is safe for travel he can not help but notice the smell in the air.  A sweet smell like only comes this time of the year.  He can not put his finger to exactly where the smell is coming from, nor can he exactly identify what the smell is, for it seems to be a sweet mix of all things sweet and everywhere at the same time (ubiquitous you might say).   What he can say is that it is very pleasing to the senses and makes him hungry to think that there might be a fruit somewhere that he could eat.

What HO!  Straight ahead of them in the trail is a yellow apple tree.  And as they approach the apple tree, Sir Butt halts Something and picks two apples from the tree.  They are quite large and look delicious.  He holds one in front of Something, who politely takes a big bite out of the apple.  Then Sir Butt joins him with a big bite out of the other apple.  MMMMMM.  Sweet and juicy just like they should be.  (I’ll just bet you did not catch on to me that I did not say “wild” yellow apple tree did you?  Of course not.  You were so taken by this story you actually believed there was suddenly before them a yellow apple tree, and that is fine, because at this time of the worlds history, nobody had ever thought about growing their own apple trees in their yards or near their homes.  It was just as common to ride down the trail and pick the fruit from a tree already growing apples, or plumbs or whatever).

“It is a fine day, Something, when you think about eating a sweet juicy fruit and there it appears before your eyes”.  Said Sir Butt in a mumbling sort of way.  (After all, he did just take a bite of an apple and hasn’t had time to chew and swallow it.  He would be chastised today for being rude for talking with his mouth full, but manners such as we have today have not been instilled in  the people of Sir Butt’s day).  “Such a fine and delicious apple it is too.  I think I shall pick a few more for our trip Something”.  And he picks four or six more apples and places them in his satchel.

They continued to bite and chew their apples as they continued down the trail making certain it is safe for future travelers.   With the last bite taken, Sir Butt tosses the apple core over into the brush alongside the trail and makes a verbal wish.  “I wish upon Common Ground that at least one of the seeds from within this apple core shall take root and grow another apple tree like the one that apple came from”.  And believe it or not, the next time Sir Butt travelled down that trail there was indeed another apple tree growing.  There must be magic in the air!  (3)


It wasn’t long after Sir Butt tossed his apple core to the side of the trail when they approached a lone man walking slowly down the trail ahead of them.  He was carrying a very large bag on his back and it was full to the brim.  As they plodded closer to the man, he heard them coming and politely stepped to the side of the trail to let them proceed.  Sir Butt brought Something to a halt along side the man.  “Greetings my friend”!  Said Sir Butt.  “Greetings right back at you my friend”.  Said the other man.  “Have you been travelling long”? Asked Sir Butt.  “Just long enough”. Replied the man.  “And wherest art thou going”? Asked Sir Butt.  “Funny you should ask, my good man, I am on my way to my Point B, same as you”.  He replied.  “Well then”, remarked Sir Butt, “It is funny I should have asked, I already knew the answer”.  And both men laughed.

When the laughter subsided, Sir Butt was serious again in asking the man where he was in fact headed and he gestured his point B was over there and with a high arc of the index finger and then a second arch following the skyline.  Sir Butt was taken back a bit by this gesture and asked, “Are you telling me your Point B is every village as far as the horizon from one side of Common Ground to the other”?  “Yes, that is my goal.  To visit every village in all of Common Ground”.  He replied.  “That is one very big undertaking my good friend”.  Said Sir Butt.  “But, not so much as yours is Sir Butt”.  Replied the man.  “How do you know my name”?  Asked Sir Butt.  “I know everyones name in all of Common Ground”.  Answered the man.  “Amazing”!  Said Sir Butt, and then continued.  “And why in all of Common Ground would you take it upon yourself to get to know everyone in all of Common Ground”?  “Everyone in all of Common Ground takes it upon themselves to do something special with their lives”.  He said, continuing with, “Mine is to learn everyone’s name and where they live and to make it a point to visit with them at least once each year.  I know that sounds impossible, but I have been doing it for years and years and this is just one more year in a series”.  “But, this is the first time I have met you my good fellow”.  Said Sir Butt, “And I have lived in Common Ground all of my life.  I have not met you before and I don’t know your name and I am the all knowledgeable one”.  “AH!  But you DO know my name, Sir Butt”.  Said the man.  “No I don’t my friend”.  Responded Sir Butt.  And the man replied with, “Remember when you were back in Dragon School learning about dragons and their behaviors and how to slay them?  How hard you were working to gain as much knowledge as you could so that you would be the best of the best dragon slayer in all of Common Ground?  You had worked so very hard that you fell asleep with your face planted in one of your text books late at night.  I awakened you and gave you a gift and then told you that you had earned your right of passage to become the best of the best at everything you put your mind to doing.  And now, look at you!  The best of the best, the cleverest of the clever, the dragon slayer of all dragon slayers and the most knowledgeable of all in Common Ground”.   “Oh, and don’t forget, I am the man with the best of the best of steeds in all of Common Ground as well”!  Said Sir Butt.  “But, my friend, I do NOT recall meeting you”.  “But you did, Sir Butt”.  Said the man.  “You might not remember our meeting, but we did in fact meet then and I have met with you every year since that time, and even BEFORE that time.  Sir Butt, you look confused”.  “I am confused.  I am going through my vast knowledge and cannot put a name to your face, nor a face to your name, which I do not know.  I am very confused and perhaps you should tell me your name and then maybe it will jog my memory”.  Said Sir Butt.

“My name is taken from the gifts I give each year.  Everyone in Common Ground gets the same gift from me and that is my name.  You should have a bunch of them, if you in fact have kept them year after year, my friend Sir Butt.  Think about it for awhile, you will remember my name.  But for now, I must continue my travel, I have lots of that yet to do.  Toodle Do, Sir Butt, until we meet again”.  Replied the man and he began his slow walk down the path ahead of Sir Butt.  “Take care my friend”!  Yelled Sir Butt as the man slowly disappeared around a bend in the trail.

Sir Butt was beside himself trying really hard to think about ever meeting this man who he just did meet.  He is at a point where he is talking to himself and to Something and he just can’t come up with this man’s name, nor where they had ever met before.  And he claims to have met with him every year since that time, but Sir Butt can not for the life of himself ever remember meeting him.  “This is too strange, Something.  How in all of Common Ground could I meet someone once and then every year since that time, and yet cannot remember ever meeting him, nor seeing his face, nor remember his name”?

Sir Butt is really in a quandary at this time.  A man he chances to meet just now on the trail, who claims to have met him every year since he was in dragon school so very, very, very many years ago.  And even before dragon school.  And yet the all knowledgeable one can not recall even one meeting except this one, and the man claims he does in fact know who he is by the gifts that he has given him every year.  Boy o boy, Sir Butt is in a pickle!  (4)


Sir Butt begins his travels down the trail behind the stranger he just met, who claims he knows who he is and that they have met every year etc. etc. etc.  He is thinking, since the man was carrying such a big bag on his back and walking slowly that Something’s pace will cause them to meet up again and he can ask him some more questions and perhaps gain the knowledge he needs about who this man is.  They are moving at a pretty good pace but have not seen the man up the trail, nor down the trail when they have come to a hill with open hill sides.  After several hours, Sir Butt decides the man must have hidden off to the side of the trail to avoid having to answer his questions and that he was far enough off the trail that Something did not detect him hiding in the brush.  Oh well.

And on they go, covering as many trails and roads as they can in search of dangers.  Through the thickest of the thick brushy trails and into narrow cavernous rock roads they go.  Day after day and no dangers are to be found.  This is a good thing, thinks Sir Butt to himself.  I have cleaned up Common Ground very well over the years and where I have encountered dangers in previous years there are none today.  Aloud he says, “Something!  We owe ourselves a mug of ail!  We are close to the village of Jingle, so let’s make that our Point B.  We shall be there most hast”!  And off they trotted toward the village of Jingle.

It wasn’t long before Sir Butt and Something entered into the village of Jingle and of course went straight into the center of the town to where the tavern is located.  We all know that the tavern is the first erected structure in any and all of the villages in Common Ground.  And the towns folk build around this structure in a circle so that no-one has to travel any farther than someone else going to or coming from the tavern. “ WHOA”!  Sir Butt instructs Something, who had already stopped exactly where he needed to in order to allow Sir Butt to dismount without stepping in the rudeness of another’s steed.

Sir Butt walks slowly up to the door of the tavern and swings the door open as he steps inside.  The place is as full as it can get and Sir Butt has to push a little in order to get to the bar.  Once at the bar the man behind the counter greets him with a very cold mug of ail.  “On the house my friend”!  He said to Sir Butt.  “Many thanks to you, sir”!  Said Sir Butt and he picked up the mug and drank the ail without ever putting the mug down!  “AAHHHHH”!  Exclaimed Sir Butt, “That was fine!  I’ll have another”!  And the man behind the bar poured up another cold mug of ail and gave it to Sir Butt.  “You are Sir Butt, are you not”?  Said and asked the bartender.  “I am the one and only Sir Butt”!  Said Sir Butt.  “All drinks are on the house for you Sir Butt.  We have heard through the voices of many about the dragons they are finding slayed alongside the trails and roads leading throughout Common Ground and that you are the reason the trails and roads are safe!  EVERYONE!!!!  EVERYONE!!!  THIS MAN IS SIR BUTT!!!  THE DRAGON SLAYER OF ALL DRAGON SLAYERS IN ALL OF COMMON GROUND!!!”  He yelled.  And the crowd went as wild as could be and broke out into song! “ Fear Not Fair Maiden………..”(you’ve heard that before).  And then one by one each person in the tavern came up to Sir Butt and thanked him for the job he was doing at making their travels safe and each one bought him a cold ail and the merriment went on throughout the night and into the next day!

(So as not to get you all excited, after an hour or so of the partying, someone offered to put Sir Butt’s Steed, Something, up in the local stable for the night.  They fed and watered him and made him as comfortable as a steed can be made comfortable.  No animals are harmed or mistreated in this story, except of course the dangerous ones like the dragons and the like.  You don’t mind about them being bashed and slashed do you?  I don’t care if you do!  This is Sir Butt’s story and he will kill all the dangerous ones he wants to kill.   If that bothers you quit reading this and go check out a treehugger web site). (5)


Sir Butt has to sleep all through the daylight hours the next day in order to survive the night and early morning of before.  He awakens just as the sun is setting and tends to Something.  Something knows the next place Sir Butt is going to go is back into the tavern, which is exactly where Sir Butt went.

“Well, well, well, Sir Butt.  It’s nice to see you up and about”!  Said the bartender.  “Would you care for a pickled egg and perhaps a leg of turkey”?  He asked.  “The turkey leg sounds very good, but instead of the pickled egg, I’d rather have one of your very good dill pickles, and of course I’ll have an ail with that as well, my friend”!  Said Sir Butt.  “Excellent choice of drink Sir Butt, excellent”!  Responded the bartender.

As the tavern once again began filling up with patrons at the end of their hard working days, each spoke to Sir Butt and once again bought him ails.  Sir Butt was very courteous and did not want any of them to think he was not appreciative of their kindness, and politely accepted each and every ail offered.

Between conversations with the patrons Sir Butt and the bartender talked about the man Sir Butt had met on the trail.  And the two of them tried their dangdest  to figure out the mans name.  Sir Butt said this man visits EVERYONE In Common Ground every year and that would mean he visited this bartender and every one of the patrons.  And so the bartender made an announcement to the patrons.  “LISTEN UP FOLKS.  SIR BUTT MET A MAN DOWN THE TRAIL A FEW DAYS AGO WHO CLAIMS HE KNOWS EVERY PERSON’S NAME THAT LIVES IN COMMON GROUND.  THIS MAN ALSO CLAIMS HE VISITS EVERY ONE OF US EACH YEAR.  AND ON TOP OF ALL OF THAT, HE GIVES US A GIFT EVERY YEAR.  AND ON TOP OF, THE TOP OF THAT, HIS NAME HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE GIFT HE GIVES AND HE HAS BEEN DOING IT FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS.  CAN ANYONE HERE TELL SIR BUTT THIS MANS NAME”?

The crowd murmurs among themselves at their own tables and this goes on for quite some time but no body can think of anyone who visits each of them every year.  Someone each of them knows and each of them get the same gift from this man year after year.  They begin to think Sir Butt may have had too many ails in all his days or perhaps he has been on the trail killing dragons too long and his memory has gone and he is making things up.

Sir Butt announces to the patrons another insightful thing about this man:  “THIS MAN NEW MY NAME!  HE CALLED ME SIR BUTT!  AND EVEN TOLD ME SOME OF MY OWN PAST WHICH MOST PEOPLE DO NOT KNOW”!

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm!  The crowd now believes Sir Butt did in fact meet someone down the trail and that there is something about his story that makes it believable.  But who in all of Common Ground could this man be?  What gift was given to each of them year after year?  Who comes to visit them once each year that each of them know and like?  This mystery must be solved and so they continue  to drink mugs of ail and talk about the mysterious man on the trail.

Sir Butt asks the bartender about the village of Jingle and just what is it that most of the folks do in the town.  The bartender explains it this way:  There is a small mine up the hill that extracts silver metal out of the earth and that all of the metal extracted is purchased by a factory in town that takes the metal and mashes it together and forms petal like bends.  Each petal like bend is shaped the same, some are bigger and some are smaller depending on who the customer is that is ordering them.  Then another group puts all the petals together, fastening them at either end of the petals, by pounding the very ends of the petals together on small anvils.  Before the last petal is inserted and fastened they drop a small ball into the center of the petal’s enclosure and then the last petal is mauled into place.  What the end result is is a near sphere of silver metal with tiny spaces between the petals, except at the ends of course.  If one ties a tether to one end of the sphere and shakes it, the small ball inside rattles against the inside of the metal petals and it makes a ringing sound.  Very unique for Common Ground and most every village will purchase several of these every year.  It keeps the local villagers in work and keeps the economy of Common Ground in very good shape.  As long as everyone enjoys their mugs of ail, the town will continue to have good times.

“That is a very interesting story my friend”, said Sir Butt.  “Do you have a name for these small spherical  circles with a ball in the middle”?  He asked.   “For lack of a better word for them, most folks here just call them ‘bells’”.  Responded the bartender.  “Bells.  Very interesting”.  Responded Sir Butt. (6)


As the first light is hitting the mine above the village, Sir Butt is mounted up on Something and heading down the trail in search of more danger.

Riding down the trail it is impossible for Sir Butt to get his mind off of the two things of late that has him wondering about.  First, of course it the mysterious man he met and second is the fact that he did not know about the bells made in the village he just left.  He does not remember ever seeing any silver spheres with a ball inside in any of the villages he has been in, and he has been in them all.  He vows to make it a point to see one of the little silver spheres at his next village stop.

His trail is taking him to a place he has not been to in several years.  The last visit down this trail he encountered a very  vicious  beast that took him several whacks with Cache to bring it down.  He thought at one point in the battle that maybe his time had come and the beast was going to come out the victor.  But Something came through with a surprise that made Sir Butt the victor and cleared the area of a very nasty and dangerous beast indeed.

They plodded past the place where the previous battle had taken place and sure enough, there were the remnants of the beast laying there all sun bleached.  A reminder to all travelers that Sir Butt had been there clearing the way and making the trail safe.  No more encounters were had along that trail as Sir Butt and Something made their way to the other end of it.

Now on a trail that cut nearly ninety degrees to the last one, they were headed to the very end of Common Ground on that side.  The edge of Common Ground where one looks from a high vista across a large body of water.  There is no trail down to the water’s edge but the view is spectacular.   Sir Butt decides to spend the evening at this vista and enjoy the setting sun.  That evening Sir Butt could hear sounds that he had never heard before.  A low drumming sound with guttural references mixed in.  An eerie sound.  One that caused him to have a very sleepless night.  Something did not sleep as well and the two of them decided not to have any breakfast before leaving that place.  Sir Butt surmised that whatever it was that made those noises would not be up to the top of the vista to bother any travelers that may come to that end of Common Ground.  And of course, he was right.

They had to travel back along the trail they last came on to the vista to the intersection of the trail he was on before, you know, the one where the beasts bones were bleached.  They passed that intersection and proceeded toward the opposite end of Common Ground.  Here they entered the forest again and once more Sir Butt noticed the drops of dew responding with all the colors of the rainbow.  For some reason these rainbow colors were a bit more brilliant in this part of Common Ground than where he first saw them days ago.  Maybe it is just the angle of the sun, he thought.  It does not matter, they are pretty to look at and I will enjoy them until the heat of the day evaporates them from the ends of the leaves.

Sir Butt has never in all his days ever seen any danger down this trail through Common Ground and he does not expect to have anything happen on this trip either.  They travel down through the thickest forest in all of Common Ground and the elevation gets lower and lower to the point the vegetation turns from forest, to  brush and into a desert environment with little water.  Sir Butt has prepared their journey with a lambs gut bag filled with water, enough for the two of them for several days.  At the end of this trail, Sir Butt is overlooking a vertical cliff and there is nothing but air and space from where he stands to forever a distance away from his feet.  The clouds are hanging below him and if there is land under those clouds he can not see it.  He feels the breeze blowing up from under him and it is hot, as if it is being heated by some sort of external force.

Sir Butt reminded himself that he must go on.  There are more trails to cover and more dangers to seek out.  And so the two of them turn around and back track through the desert and to the next trail. (7)


Sir Butt and Something have just been to both sides of Common Ground and seen sights that they had not seen in quite some time.  They have not met any dangers since leaving the village of Jingle and this is all good news for Sir Butt and for that matter, all of the people in Common Ground.  They can pretty much travel where they wish, as there are no dangers.  At least not where Sir Butt and Something have had the chance to travel.

They awaken on a mountain overlooking rolling hills and make their normal breakfast of lamb broth and hard bread before breaking camp and heading off.  Sir Butt is just about finished putting his things on the back of Something, when he hears a voice calling his name from the distance.  “Sir Butt!  Sir Butt!  Hold up a minute!  I have some important news”!  Sir Butt is looking around for the person who has called out his name, but can not see anyone.  Again the voice is heard, “Sir Butt!  Sir Butt!  Over here”!

Sir Butt can not see who is calling his name and so he begins walking in the direction of the voice.  Something begins to dance in circles and stomp and snort.  Sir Butt looks back at Something and his antics has Sir Butt very aware that whoever  or whatever is calling his name is not a friendly sort.

Sir Butt walks back to Something and mounts up.  Checks his Cache and begins to ride in the direction of the voice.  Something begins to shrink.  Sir Butt is thinking , “What man would call my name and be a danger”?  Something has shrunken again.  Then as quick as a wink, out from Sir Butt’s left side springs a dragon that has not been seen in Common Ground for centuries.  It is one of the largest dragons in all of Common Ground and it was thought to be non-existent.  The Ventriloquist Dragon!!!!!  Sir Butt, draws Cache from his Account and heels Something straight at the dragons chest.  The dragon towers above the two of them as they charge head long toward the dragon.  The dragon stands up on its two hind feet and the two of them ride right under the dragons belly.  Now behind the dragon, the dragon is confused as to their whereabouts and begins to turn around to face them.

Something has come to a halt, turned around and is now charging toward the tail of the dragon.  Sir Butt has Cache held high and as the dragon comes around to face them it meets the top half of Cache slicing the underside of its neck, severing all the vital fluid tubes found in a dragons neck!  The dragon spins and spins and finally falls dead on the ground.

Sir Butt and Something are catching their breath as the dragon falls.  “Let that be the last of the Ventriloquist Dragons ever in Common Ground”!  Exclaimed Sir Butt.  And Something stomped the ground once with each of his two front feet.

“Well, Something.  That is quite a way to start a morning in Common Ground, is it not”?  Asked Sir Butt.  And Something shook his head up and down in agreement.  “I honestly thought I heard a mans voice calling my name and that is why I ventured in that direction without you.  I had not thought for one moment there would be a  Ventriloquist Dragon laying in wait to stomp my being and rip out my heart.  I thank you dearly once again for saving me.  You are the greatest steed in all the land”!

So, with that danger gone, they again proceeded down the trail in search of more.

Two days pass as they travel and no more dangers have been seen nor heard.  They are beginning to think that all the trails in Common Ground are safe once again for the travelers.  They are joyous and Sir Butt talks loudly to Something, and Something dances and prances when Sir Butt does so.  It is as if they are having a joyous good time by themselves, which they are.

Down the trail they are going when Something suddenly comes up short.  He stops his travel without being told to or signaled by Sir Butt.  Sir Butt knows that he only does that if there is an unknown in the trail ahead.  Not necessarily danger, just someone or something that Something does not recognize or smell.  Sir Butt sits tall on Something but can not see anything or anyone in the trail ahead.  Suddenly a voice calls out:  “God Bless You Merry Gentlemen, There Is Something You Should Know”!  Sir Butt grasps for Cache and withdraws it from his Account.  He is thinking it could be another Ventriloquist Dragon, but then Something is not shrinking.  And then he sees movement on the right side of the trail ahead and a man steps out from behind a tree and waves.

WHEEWWW!  Thinks Sir Butt, it is our friend from who knows where that knows everyone and everything and gives us gifts and visits us each year and no one knows who he is or what his name is or what gift he gives….ya….it’s him. (8)


“Hello there my friend”!  Calls out Sir Butt.  “Hello”! Calls out the man who knows everyone but nobody can think of who he is.  “You had me going there Sir”.  Said Sir Butt and then he continued.  “ I drew my sword and prepared to smitten you because I thought you might be a Ventriloquist Dragon”!  “HA!  Ventriloquist Dragon!  There was but one of them left in all of Common Ground and you did him in the other day”!  Said the man.  Sir Butt scratches his head in disbelief and asks, “How on Common Ground did you know about my dealing with the Ventriloquist Dragon a few days back”?  “Oh, Sir Butt, I know a lot more than people give me credit to know about each of them, AND YOU, I might add”!  He exclaimed.

(Well, Sir Butt has met back up with the man who knows everyone, but no one seems to know who he is.  This is quite the story isn’t it.  His name has something to do with the gifts he leaves when he visits everyone each year.  Strange.  My head is being scratched as I type and I type with two hands, how can that be?  Will this guy tell Sir Butt his name or is Sir Butt going to have to go through life not knowing?  You know what that would do to a man who calls himself “the all knowing one”!)

“My good man”! Begins Sir Butt, “The last time I saw you, you were clear over on the other side of Common Ground with a large bag of goods on your back and no steed on which to ride.  How on Common Ground did you get clear over here”?  He asked.  “Ho! Ho”!  Said the man, “Perhaps I should invest in a steed.  The number of people I have to see each year is getting to be more and more, but I made a promise and I will keep it, steed or no steed.  You see Sir Butt, when a man makes a promise and breaks it, it breaks people’s hearts.  I am not going to break anyone’s heart even if it takes me all year to visit everyone, I will do it”!  “You are quite the man my friend”.  Responded Sir Butt and then added,  “And may I ask, whom did you make the promise to”?   “You may ask”, the man said and then continued with “I made the promise to myself many, many years ago.  You see my childhood was not what some would call very pleasant and when I would see others my age receiving special gifts and I did not, my heart was broken.  So, I made a promise to myself, that I would see to it that everyone in Common Ground would receive a gift from me every year and I have kept that promise to this day”.  “But, my good man”, began Sir Butt, “when people do not remember meeting you or receiving a gift from you, don’t you think you are wasting your precious time continuing to do it”?  “Not at all”!  He responded.  “It may be that they do not appreciate or remember, but in my own mind, I have given and that is what really matters to me.  What they do with the gift is their business.  I have always given everyone the same gift every year and in my mind, over the years, if they were to collectively put the gifts to good use they could expand on their own worth and see that there is more to Common Ground than what we see today.  Actually I am not seeing my gift being utilized as I had hoped, but I will continue to give it anyway and then some day perhaps someone will see what I was trying to accomplish”.  “HMMMMM”, hummed Sir Butt.

“And I am one of those who have not used your gift in the manner in which you would have liked to see it used”.  Said Sir Butt.  “Yes”.  Began the man.  “You are one, but you are one of all of the rest, NO ONE in Common Ground has used my gift in the manner in which I was hoping it would be used.  But then in your case, and the case of a few others, like your friend Sir Clanks A lot, you do not have a place in Common Ground where my gift would be of much value.  You travel the lands and my gift is meant as more of a permanent place gift.  One that could be used to a greater value than the gift itself.  However, you could give the gift to someone else and they could expand upon what I have been trying to accomplish.  You would also benefit from the gift in another way”.  “HMMMMM”, hummed Sir Butt again.

You see Sir Butt is trying to figure out what this man is all about and to hopefully gain a hint as to what the gift is that he says he is giving to each of the people in Common Ground and that would lead to the mans name, which Sir Butt has no clue as to what it is.  The most cleaver of the cleaver ones in all of Common Ground has come up against an even more cleaver person than himself and this in and of itself is a bothersome thing for Sir Butt.  Will he be able to sleep tonight?  Ya, he will, the ail he drinks will make sure he sleeps well.  (9)


“Well, Sir Butt, it has once again been my pleasure to talk with you.  I have lots of more folks to see and gifts to hand out.  Enjoy the rest of your day and evening and for that matter, the rest of your life.  I am off once again to my Point B.  Toodle Do”!  Said the man and then he was off down the trail in the direction where Sir Butt had just come.  His large sack over his back and it wasn’t long before he disappeared behind the screen of forest trees and shrubs.

“A very interesting man”.  Sir Butt said outloud.  “Very interesting”.  “Something?  Do you think our meeting him a second time in such a short time, means that we will not see him again until maybe next year?  And, and, what in Common Ground is this!?!  Something!  Look at this!  Where did it come from?  What is it”?

Sir Butt has obviously discovered some sort of object that he had not seen before and it suddenly appeared as if by magic had made it appear.  What is it?  We can only continue to read along and find out.  You see, not even I, the writer of this, knows for sure what it is.  Sir Butt, Something and the rest of the folks that preside in Common Ground will have to figure this one out.  The man obviously has an intent for these gifts to be used in a specific manner and to this date none have used it as such.  At least not intentionally.  Or at least not exactly the way the mysterious man wants the gifts to be used.

“Something.  This was not here when we stopped to talk to the man who just left us.  I know this for a fact!  Could this be the gift the man has been handing out for years?  I am not sure I have ever seen such as this before.  Maybe in my dreams I will be able to remember having a gift like this before, but as of now, I can not.  Just what is it”?

Sir Butt makes certain that the gift is placed safely in a satchel, separate from all of the other things in that same satchel and that it is protected from harm and disfigurement.  And then down the trail they once again ride in search of danger and troublesome menaces’.

After a very long and hard memory bashing day, Sir Butt is more than ready to make camp and get some sleep.  Once Something is tethered nearby, Sir Butt pulls from his satchel his stash of ail, and the mysterious item that suddenly appeared in his hands.  He sips the ail and studies the item intently.  It is mostly round shaped on the bottom and solid and has dimples or dents that appear to be made from a persons hands pressing it together.  The top of it, however, looks like it could have been growing, like grass or forest vegetation or something.  Could it be that this man makes these things himself and then hands them out to the people he meets in Common Ground?  Could it be these things that fill the bag on the mans back?  Sir Butt thinks about this for quite some time and then deducts that as heavy as the one is that he is holding in his hand, to have a bag full of them would be impossible for any man to pick up and sling over his back.  So, it is not these things that are in the bag.  But, when did the man make it and give it to Sir Butt?  It had to be him that left it with him when he departed and went down the path on his way.  But, Sir Butt did not see him actually give it to him.  Oh, this is all so very confusing.  (10)


Sir Butt has a very good nights’ sleep and awakens to a new dawn in Common Ground.  The first thing he notices is the dew on the leaves and how intense the colors are shining and even though the morning sun is still a long way off from shining, the glowing of the dew drops is very bright.  He sits there in the pre-dawn and enjoys the colors shifting and changing from red to yellow to blue and to green.  He sips on his cup of lamb broth and munches his hard bread and thinks to himself what a wonderful land this is, Common Ground.  And what a wonderful life he lives.  His job is to make safe the trails and roads and he is doing that to his utmost best.  Only a few more trails to travel and he will have completed his task and then the ways will be safe for all the travelers going from their Points A to their Points B.

“Come on Something!  It’s time to travel”!  And he gathers up all of his things and prepares to depart down the trail to their next Point B.

As the day progresses and no more dangers have been found, Sir Butt finds himself continuing to think about the gift in his satchel.  A strange gift indeed, he thinks to himself.  What is it and what intent did the man have for such a gift.  It appears to Sir Butt that the item is made of the ground  or at least a portion of the ground and not any ground that he has personally slept on or seen before.  Maybe it is not part of the ground.  But it sure looks like it could be.  The top looks as if it had something growing on it and the bottom looks like it could have been molded with the hands of a man.

Still puzzled he continues down the trail and finds himself at the far side of Common Ground once again.  This side is also a vista and to look down one can not see very far as the ground under his feet undercuts where he is standing and the clouds actually fill the gap below him, and continue up and over his head as if it were a white puffy wall.  Certainly the end of Common Ground in these parts.  “Not much sense sticking around here, Something.  I can not see anything more in this direction and if there are dangers out there, they won’t be bothersome to us here in Common Ground.  Let us go.  We have but one trail left to travel and make safe”!

And off they go, to the last trail they have to cover in all of Common Ground to make safe, in order that all of the travelling folks can go safely to their Points B.  And so it was.  Sir Butt and Something do in fact travel to the last edge of Common Ground and they found no dangers along the way.  At the end of this trail is a fun little village that Sir Butt only gets around to visiting once in any given year and he is looking forward, as always, to enjoy an ail in their quaint little tavern.

Coming down the road are some travelers who have just left the little village ahead.  “Hello  Travelers”!  Yells Sir Butt in a jovial manner.  “Hello, Sir Butt!”  Yells back one of the travelers, and then continued.  “We have to be going on our way or we would stay and have an ail with you.  We have not seen you in about a years time, but then we have not seen our friends at our Point B in longer than that.  Have a good time in Yuletide”!  “I will”!  Said Sir Butt.  “Rest assured your travel is safe to your Point B.  I have completed my rounds throughout all of Common Ground and cleared all paths of dangers”!  “Thank You, Sir Butt!  You are the dragon slayer of all dragon slayers”!  Yelled back another of the travelers.

And so, the end of the trail Sir Butt is on ends at the village of Yuletide.  Now this little village has a very unique gathering of folks.  They are people just like the rest in Common Ground except for one thing.  They are quite short compared to the rest.  On the other hand, Sir Butt is quite tall for the average in Common Ground and so when he visits Yuletide he is like a giant among most of these villagers.  Which does not bother him nor them.  They are used to being shorter than everyone else.  Another thing about these villagers is that they are always sooooo very happy!  It does not take much for them to break out into song and party till the wee hours of the night.

Sir Butt and Something prance right up to the village center, the tavern, and Sir Butt tethers Something to the hitching post.  And then into the tavern he goes for a cold mug of ail.  Now, you would think that a village of mostly shorter people would build shops and homes shorter than the rest of the villages in Common Ground, but this is not the case.  They build their buildings just like the others in all of Common Ground.  They know they are going to have visitors coming and going and to make shorter ceilinged homes and shops would make it so the visitors could not come inside, or make them stoop and be uncomfortable.  And so, the wise men of the village started right off by building normal sized homes, shops and of course the tavern.  (11)


The people of Yuletide always like to see Sir Butt come into their town.  It means he has reached the end of his journey and cleared ALL of the pathways, trails and roads throughout all of Common Ground of dangers and evil things.  Folks from all over Common Ground can come and go without fear.  It is a joyous time for everyone.  The folks from Yuletide always plan a big time party for when Sir Butt arrives and this is no exception.  His cold mug of ail is waiting for him at the bar and everyone in the village is at the tavern to greet him.  They are such a joyous group to be around.  One never knows what sort of prank or joke might be in store for them.  This time, they had planned on everyone telling Sir Butt “hello” at the same time.  And so it was, when he walked in the door of the tavern a very raucous “HELLO SIR BUTT”!  Greeted is entry.  And then everyone laughed and laughed.  Sir Butt took off his hat and bowed to them all and with a big old grin on his face, he politely YELLED, “HELLLOOOOO”!!!!  Back to them.  And everyone laughed and laughed and laughed some more!

As the day went on, Sir Butt told them about slaying the two dragons and how he was almost taken down and maybe one day a dragon is going to cause him to miss his date of visiting Yuletide.  But, this time he is there to enjoy the company and party with them.  It was beginning to get dark by the time Sir Butt finished with his dragon stories and one of the gentlemen of the village said “Hey, let’s go into the forest and get us some logs and start our traditional fire.  We can move this party outside and enjoy the rest of the evening around it”!  And several of the men jumped up and ran out into the forest.

The rest of them moved tables and chairs and pulled out the outdoor bar and set everything up around the fire ring.  (The fire ring is a ring of fairly large rocks that outlines exactly where the fire is going to be, and it also helps to keep the fire from spreading where it is not supposed to go).  This is going to be one heck of a party so get yourself ready for it.

It wasn’t long before the men came back from the forest with these huge logs and they placed them inside the fire ring.  Then one of the wise men of the village made an announcement to the rest of the village.  “Here Ye!  Here Ye!  Let us toast to our good friend and man who keeps Common Ground safe for us all.  The bravest of the brave!  The cleverest of the clever!  The most knowledgeable of all knowledgeable ones!  The dragon slayer of all dragon slayers!  And the master of the best of the best steeds in all of Common Ground!  Sir Butt”!!!!  And the whole town tipped up their mugs of ail in Sir Butt’s honor!  Sir Butt politely, bowed and then tipped his mug up in their honor.

As Sir Butt was drinking his toast to his village friends he noticed in the darkness the dew drops on the tips of all of the leaves on every tree was still showing the glow and colors of the rainbow, only it was dark outside and yet they shined so very bright and beautiful.  He had never seen something so inspiring in all of his days on Common Ground.  It was almost a magical experience.

“Let’s start the fire”!  Yelled someone from the village.  And it was done.  The fire started low and soon was a real big blaze.  Nowhere in the village could you not see everyones face in its light.  A beautiful sight to say the least.  Sir Butt commented to someone close to him that he always liked to come to Yuletide and enjoy the fire.  There is just something special about Yuletide logs on fire that brings out a festive attitude to everyone.  But these village folks are always festive and they broke out into song.  And when that song was done they sang another and everyone knew every word and everyone knew what the next song was going to be and it was festive indeed.  There isn’t much that is better than Yuletide songs being sung by a fire.  And they drank more and more ail and had one great big old party all night long.  (12)


The party lasted well into the wee hours of the morning, like most of the parties that Sir Butt is involved with and he begins his day with another mug of you know what.  As the village folks woke up they would filter into the tavern and order up a mug of the same and then came a big breakfast for all to enjoy.  Leg of lamb, ham, turkey, baked breads, pickles and the list goes on.  There is always more than anyone can eat and so they gorge themselves on it all.  What a wonderful time these people are having.  But, you know, this sort of party is not just happening in this little village alone.  It is happening all over Common Ground.  Every village is having a similar party.  There is just something special about this time of year that makes people all over Common Ground get together and have a good time.  What a great place to be and what a great time of year.

Sir Butt finishes his breakfast and then excuses himself to care to Something.  Like always he finds Something in a comfortable stable and he walks him out into the forest to relieve himself.  Something is very glad too, because he was feeling a bit uncomfortable.  But now, all is well, and he loves to be in this stable with the other steeds.  They seem to be having a party of their own in there.

Sir Butt tells Something he is going back to the tavern and talk about the man who knows everyone in Common Ground and he also takes the gift he has into the tavern with him.

Approaching the bar, Sir Butt sets the gift on the counter and unwraps it from its safe wrapping.  The bartender looks at it with a curious look and says, “Looks a lot like something I have”!  “It does”? Questions Sir Butt.  “Well, mine isn’t as large as that, but then I’m not as big as you”.  Said the bartender, and he went on to say.  “You see if mine was that big I probably could not pick it up, it would be too heavy”.  “I see”.  Said Sir Butt.  “Would you mind getting it and we can compare”.  Sir Butt went on to say.  “Of course not, I’ll be right back with it”.  Said the bartender.

Soon the bartender was back with his “thing” and set it on the bar next to Sir Butt’s.  They studied the two items and sure enough they decided they were exactly the same, or nearly so, but what are they?  Pretty soon everyone in the village was in the tavern discussing and showing their own things.  Everyone had one unless they had tossed it away not knowing it was a gift.  One man said he had a whole pile of them but he had no idea where they came from, nor what good they were, he just kept putting the next one along side the one he got the year before and now he has a small mountain of them.

Sir Butt was curious about this pile of them and asked if he could go and see it.  Of course the man obliged and Sir Butt, the man with the mountain of them and several others went to see the pile.  Once at the pile Sir Butt examined several of them and sure enough they were all pretty much the same.  All of them had the same grassy looking, forest brush dried up stuff on the top and a hand molded sort of round bottom.  “What do you make of these things”?  Asked Sir Butt to the man who had the pile.  “Well, I just have not been able to figure that out”.  He said, and then went on.  “There is one thing that is curious though, look back here”.  And they walked to the other side of the pile.  The man pointed at several plants growing from out of the pile.  “You see these”?  He said.  “I did not plant them, but they seem to be growing from out of the pile.  Each year they get some very sweet clusters of fruit on them and I have eaten them and they are very delicious indeed.  I do not know what they are called, nor do I much care, because they are very good to eat.  Sweet as sweet can be and the bees love them too”.

Sir Butt is looking very closely at the plant and sees a small cluster of dried fruit hidden deep in the stand of plants.  “It looks as though you overlooked this small cluster.  Do you mind if I pick it”?  Sir Butt said and asked.  “Of course not, go right ahead”.  Responded the man with the pile.  Sir Butt reached in and picked the dried up cluster.  “Let’s go back to the tavern and have ourselves another cold mug of ail and talk about this cluster and these “things” we have.  And back to the tavern they went.  (13)


Into the tavern they went, one by one and up to the bar.  Sir Butt laid the dried cluster of fruit on the bar and began to look it over quite intently.  He asked the man with the pile of gifts, “Are these the fruit you pick”?  He answered, “Well kind of.  When I pick them they are full of sweet juice and they are round and full.  The whole cluster is quite large with many, many round fruits all hooked together on one stem”.  “And so”, began Sir Butt, “What we are seeing now is a cluster that used to be full of juice and fairly large, to small dried up fruits still clinging to the stem”.  “It appears so”.  Said the man with the pile.  “Well then”.  Began Sir Butt, “My surmising then, tells me that if the fruits are good to eat when they are full of sweet juice, that they should still be good to eat when they are shriveled and dried.  I shall try one”.  And he picked off one of the dried fruits from the stem and popped it into his mouth.  “MMMMM, quite tastey”.  Said Sir Butt.  “I have never tasted such as this before in my time”.

Again the entire village gathered around and looked at the small cluster of dried fruit and each in his and her turn had something to say about it.  Just what it is we do not know because nobody in the tavern had ever seen it before.  Only the man with the pile.

Sir Butt says, “Well Folks we have ourselves a pretty good mystery going on here.  First off, there is a man in Common Ground who is giving us gifts of, whatever this is, (and he holds up his gift), and it appears that out of a pile of, whatever this is, (still holding up his gift), comes plants that bear clusters of sweet tasting fruit and we do not know what it is nor what to do with it.  Do any of you recall the mans name who is giving you these gifts”?  And the crowd all looked around at each other and all were in disbelief and none could remember the mans name, none could recall meeting anyone who gave them the gifts they had received.  Only a few of them, like the man with the huge pile of gifts, kept the gifts given to them.

And so the mystery gets deeper as more and more of the folks in Common Ground are made aware of what Sir Butt has discovered.  It seems that only Sir Butt has met this man who claims to know everyone in Common Ground and only Sir Butt has been told by this man that these gifts are meant to be used in some fashion that at this time is only known by himself.  This story is really getting to me, how about you?  (14)


“Attention everyone”!  Calls out Sir Butt.  “It seems to me that our gifts may be made of soil.  But this soil is not of any liking to any soil found here in Common Ground.  I have travelled this land extensively and I have not seen, stepped on, slept on nor ever relieved myself on, any soil of this type.  Does anyone know of a soil specialist in all of Common Ground.  By soil specialist I mean someone who has devoted their life to studying soil”?  And the crowd looks at each other and shaking their heads, none can think of anyone they may know that has that kind of background.

“Well, then”, begins Sir Butt again, “Let us partake of more ail and perhaps we can teach ourselves about this gift of whatever it is”.  And mugs of cold ail are poured and passed to everyone.  Sir Butt has taken his gift and began to poke at it with his small knife and small chunks are falling off of it.  Some of the chunks are very small, while others come off with sizable pieces of the same type of material.  Sir Butt is beginning to talk to himself while doing this.  And as he is talking others are looking over his shoulder and under his shoulder and alongside his shoulder and still others are breathing into his face to have a look at what is coming off of his gift.  All the while everyone is still partaking of their cold mugs of ail.  Every once in awhile Sir Butt sits back from his task and takes a sip of ail from his own mug.

The probing of his gift goes on and on, and soon there is nothing left but a pile of pieces of his gift before him on the bar.  Sir Butt sits back and studies the pile with some intensity, trying his best to decide what next to do.  “Another mug of ail please my friend”.  He calls out.  “I think I am on to something here.  Only I can decide what I have found and only I can continue to dissect my gift and only I can share with you what my thinking is once I decide just what I think is going on here”.

Sipping on his ail, he again takes his knife and carefully moves some of the smaller pieces away from the larger pieces.  And then he moves other materials away from the piles that look like they could be soil, but not soil at the same time.  Then he moves materials from the materials that don’t look like the same type of materials in the pile and not so very soon, later, he has several piles of common like substances that he can not separate any more times.  He sits back and smiles!  The crowd around him are filled with joy to see Sir Butt smile and they know that the all knowledgeable one has expanded upon his own being and is about to unfold a portion of the mystery to them.

“Please, another ail”!  Says Sir Butt.  And an ail is delivered.  The entire tavern is deathly quiet and no one is looking anywhere else but directly at Sir Butt and his multiple piles of whatever it is, that is piled on the bar before him.

And then he announces to the crowd: “I believe what we have here is a soil clod”.  And the crowd gave a unified sigh of relief.  WHEEEEEWWWHHHHH.  And then someone asked the question, “What is a soil clod, Sir Butt”?  “Know you not your own soil clods”?  Answered Sir Butt.  “I’m sorry, Sir Butt, I am not knowledgeable like you and I do not till the land so I do not know what a soil clod is”.  He responded to Sir Butt’s question.  “Does anyone in here till the land”?  Asked Sir Butt.  The crowd once again looks around to their lefts and their rights and all are shaking their heads like none of them are tillers of the soil.  “I see”!  Exclaimed Sir Butt.  “It does not surprise me that none of you till the soil and therefore you would not understand what a soil clod was, even if it were right before your eyes like this one is, (and he points to his several piles of whatever it is), or this one, (and he picks up the one the bartender had brought in), and so I must give you all a lesson in soil tilling and the bottom line of what a soil clod is”. (15)


Let me begin my explanation about what a soil clod is by starting with the end result of tilling the soil, planting, harvesting and making into something more useful than that which was  planted and harvested and made into something.  This morning we ate a wonderful breakfast of lamb and ham and turkey and baked bread, did we not”?  “And pickles”!  Interrupted someone from the crowd.  “Oh, and pickles.  Thank you”.  Responded Sir Butt and proceeded with his lesson.

“Let us concentrate on the baked bread.  Baked bread can not be had for breakfast or any meal for that matter, unless someone, somewhere grows a plant from which the flour to make the bread can be made.  And so, let us call the person who is going to grow a plant that will be used to make the flour in which the bread will be made, a “flourman”.  The flourman must first get the soil ready to accept the seeds of the plant from which the flour is going to be made.  The flourman will take a very pointed stick and drive it into the ground before him, thus making a hole some few inches deep.  He will then remove the stick and reveal a small hole and in this hole he will drop a seed.  A seed from which will grow a plant that  will  produce more seeds and those seeds can be pulverized into flour from which we can make the bread.  Am I being quite clear to this point”?  Said and asked Sir Butt.

One man in the group raised his hand and said, “Sir Butt, I am a bit confused by the calling of the man planting the seeds a ‘flourman’.  It seems to my way of logic, that if you are the one planting the seeds from which a plant will grow that in turn will produce enough seeds to be pulverized and made into the flour used to make our bread, then you should be called the ‘seedman’.  Likewise, the one who actually pulverized the seeds and makes them into the flour should be called the ‘flourman’”.

“HMMMM”, thought Sir Butt, and then he responded.  “You have a very logical mind my good man, and so be it.  Please change all that I said about ‘flourman’ and make that person ‘seedman’”.  And then he went on.

“Ok.  So ‘seedman’ is going along poking holes in the ground making the holes necessary to plant the seed that will grow and produce enough more seeds that the ‘flourman’ can pulverize and make into the flour used to make our bread.  BUT, every once in awhile, the dirt around his stick will cling to his stick and when he pulls it out of the hole, all the dirt around the hole comes up with the stick, leaving a large hole in the ground and a glob of dirt on the stick. Then the ‘seedman’ will knock it off the stick and poke the stick back into the ground to make another smaller hole.  Now let us analyze just what took place.

The ‘seedman’ placed the stick into the ground making a hole.  The stick was removed from the hole, only this time the entire bunch of dirt around the stick held tightly to the stick and when it was brought up, the dirt came with it, thus no small hole was made.  ‘Seedman’, tapped the stick to get the dirt to fall off of the stick and the pieces of dirt fell on the ground.  It is those pieces of dirt that I shall call clods!  Dirt clods.  Soil clods, whatever you want to call them, they are clods.  Do you all understand?  It is important that you do”.  Said, asked and said again Sir Butt.

Now the folks are all looking around at each other and shaking their heads in agreement.  Finally one of them said,  “That all makes perfect sense to us all.  Go on Sir Butt tell us more”.  (16)


“Now that we all know what a clod is, let me explain what I have done with my gift of whatever it is”.  Began Sir Butt.  “What I did was break up my gift, my gift that I will from here on out call my clod, into smaller pieces.  And then I organized the pieces into pieces of commonality.  And I continued to do this until there were no other ways to break it up.  Once that was done, we have what we have here before us.  Several, and I do mean several, small piles of whatever it is.  Over here it looks like a pile of, let us call it dirt, for simplicity sake.  Here is one we shall call grass.  This one let’s call it forest stuff.  This one we will call sand.  This one looks like animal waste of some sort and finally a single seed”.

“Ok, Sir Butt”.  Began someone in the crowd.  “So we have several piles of commonality, what does that tell us”?  “Well, we do in fact have several piles of commonality before us, but further analysis shows us clearly that there is only one seed”.  Began Sir Butt, “And studying the piles further, we can see we have a bigger pile of sand than we have dirt.  I deduct that the animal waste, grass and forest stuff are just happen stance (I have heard of him before) that was collected when the man who knows us all and gives us these gifts, gathered it all together.  Of course I am just trying to make some sort of sense out of all of this.  Let’s have another ail and think about this”!  Of course the crowd agreed and the bartender was quite busy pouring cold mugs of ail for everyone to enjoy.  He made a comment about what he had learned today and in such a short period of time and all.  He will be able to use this learning for many, many years in his bartending business.

While they were on a sort of break from Sir Butt explaining all that was discovered, Sir Butt asked the bartender a question.  “My good man”.  He began.  “Last night when all of the singing was commencing, I noticed many of the villagers were holding onto sticks that had a shiny thing on top of it and it made a bit of a ringing sound.  Just what were those and would it be possible for me to see one up close”?  “Why yes, Sir Butt, I have one right here behind the bar”.  And the bartender produced a stick with a very shiny silver ball on top and when Sir Butt shook it, it made a ringing sound.  “And just where in Common Ground did you get this”?  Asked Sir Butt.  “Well, a group of us ordered the silver balls from a man in the village of Jingle, they call them bells.  Then we attached them to the stick so we could control the ringing and we use them when we sing our songs”.  “That is a very clever devise”.  Said Sir Butt. (17)


“Alright folks”!  Yells out Sir Butt, “Shall we proceed with our deductive reasoning”?  And then he waited until all of them gathered around to hear more of what he had to say.  “Now, folks, what I am about to tell you might not be absolutely correct in every way, but I think it is going to be close, in my humble opinion of course”.  Sir Butt said and then continued.  “Where is the man with the dried up fruit on the stem”?  He asked.  The man stepped forward with the stem.  “Do you think there could be a seed in one of the dried fruits on that stem”?  Asked Sir Butt.  “I don’t know, but there might be.  Why don’t you take one off the stem and cut it with your knife”.  He replied as he handed Sir Butt the stem with the few dried fruits on it.

Sir Butt took the stem and extracted one of the dried fruits and carefully cut it with his knife.  Scraping through the cut portion of the fruit Sir Butt did in fact reveal a single seed.  He carefully cleaned the seed off being very careful not to cut the seed or damage it in any way.  Then he slid the seed over next to the seed he had extracted from his own gift and sure as all blazes, both seeds looked exactly alike!  “Well, I’ll be graped”!  Said the man with the big pile of gifts!  And everyone in the tavern had to take a look and sure enough they all agreed both seeds were exactly the same.

“So, folks it looks like our mystery man has been giving us gifts that had a seed that would produce a plant that yielded delicious fruit and being who we are, we looked at this dirt clod and gave it a toss.  None of us knew where it came from, and none of us had a use for it and therefore it went to waste”.  Said Sir Butt.  All of them, including Sir Butt were feeling rather down at this moment.  To think someone gave them what they thought was a very good gift.  A gift that would yield to them many years of goodness and most of them just tossed the gift away.

Sir Butt broke the silence by saying, “The mystery man told me, at our last visit, that if we would have used the gifts over the years and put them together we would have something of a greater value than that of the gift itself.  And that even if I had no use for it because of my traveling, that I could pass it on to anyone else and they could pool it with their own gifts and we all could share in the benefits of the gifts.  I’m not totally sure what he meant by that but I’m sure we can figure it out”.

The man with the big pile of gifts near his home spoke up and said, “Sir Butt, and the rest of the village, I think I can shed some light on what he might have meant.  As you know, over the years I have been tossing these dirt clods up in a heap, you saw that.  And the seeds have grown the plants that you saw growing, and those plants produced many bunches of the round fruits and I ate a lot of them.  But, I was not able to eat them all, and so, I tried to save them for later use.  I placed the fruits inside one of my goat skin water pouches and forgot they were there.  One day after doing my daily tasks I went to my home and found the water pouch and drank from it.  Instead of water that came from the pouch it was a very mellow fruit tasting drink that made my head spin.  I thought this could not be a good thing and I put the pouch away.  I will go and get it and we will see what it brings forth”.  And the man left the tavern.

Of course while the man is gone, everyone is murmuring about what he was talking about.  They ordered everyone up another cold mug of ail and the discussion continued.  Soon the man was back with the pouch.  “Here Sir Butt”.  He said, “Take the pouch and see what you think of the contents”.  And Sir Butt took the pouch and pulled the wooden cork from it.  Placing it close to his nose he smelled it.  Slowly at first and then with deep breaths after that.  Sir Butt said, “I do not know what is inside, but it smells very good”.  And he passed the pouch around the room to let everyone smell the smells coming out of the pouch.  Everyone was in agreement that the smell was quite pleasing.  Once the pouch was back in Sir Butt’s hands he asked the bartender for an empty mug.

Sir Butt poured a very small amount of the liquid from the pouch into the mug to examine it.  “It has a slight bluish tint to it, oh wait maybe it is more of a redish tint.  It’s hard to tell in this light.  But it is as clear as clear can be, you can still see the bottom of the mug”.  And once again he passed the mug with the little bit of liquid in it around the tavern for all to see.  Everyone agreed with everything Sir Butt had said.  When the mug came back to Sir Butt, he said to everyone, “I am going to taste this and see if the taste is anywhere as pleasant as the smell”.  And he lifted the mug to his lips and slowly sipped in the liquid.  Everyone’s eyes were on Sir Butt and his reaction to the liquid.  (18)


In the back of Sir Butt’s mind he was telling himself this liquid could be a poison of some kind and that drinking of it might cause him his death.  But, then he had already heard from the man with the big pile of gifts, that he had taken a drink from what he thought was a water container and so his drink would have been a much bigger drink than that which he was about to take, and the man is still alive and well today.  What major harm could come of this little sip of liquid?

Sir Butt let the liquid sit in his mouth for quite some time and the vapors wafted up and around through his sinuses and the flavor stayed on his tongue for a long time and it was a very pleasant sweet taste and when he finally let it slide down his throat it was warm and soothing.  Sir Butt enjoyed that sip of liquid so much, he had a strong desire to fill the mug up with more and savor more and more of it, but he refrained.  All eyes were on Sir Butt as he finished the sip of liquid.  And when it was all over, Sir Butt said, “Folks, that is a most pleasant drink if I have ever had a pleasant drink, and I have, trust me, but this one was like no other in all of Common Ground “.

And so everyone in the tavern got a small sip of the liquid from the pouch and everyone agreed it was a most pleasant drink and that perhaps they should begin to pool their gifts and see about making more of that drink for future times.  And it came to pass that throughout all of Common Ground folks in every village, pooled their gifts and formed plots that grew the plants from the single seeds in the gifts and  it was not too many years that passed that every village was serving up the sweet liquid from goat pouches.  And this liquid was a compliment to the ail that they were so accustomed to drinking and some even gave up ail altogether to enjoy this liquid made from the sweet fruits of these plants.  And when anyone asked as to the name of these sweet fruits the name fell back onto what the man with the big pile of gifts said when he could plainly see the seed from Sir Butts gift matched that of the one from the dried fruit off the plant growing in his pile….Grapes.  (19)


Sir Butt is not one to be distracted from his task for too long a time, but the taste of the liquid from the pouch made his head spin just a bit more than it did from drinking ail and so it did take a bit to get back on the task of figuring out what the mystery mans name is.

They did in fact figure out that the mystery man was trying to get them to grow vineyards of grapes and to make sweet wine from the grapes to compliment the ail and merriment that they had already gotten so accustomed to drinking.  And nobody ever threw the gift away ever again.  They just added it to their growing plots of grape vines and they harvested grapes by the basket load and made sweet wine for everyone to enjoy.  A gift much greater than the gift itself.  Isn’t that what gift giving is all about.

Sir Butt and the rest of the villagers were crowded around the bar looking intently at the small piles of different extractions Sir Butt had made from his gift of whatever it was, when suddenly Sir Butt stood up and said “I KNOW WHAT THIS MANS NAME IS!  Why have I been so close minded, of course it is him!  I have been so very blind.  You folks will not believe it when I tell you”!  “Tell us!  Tell us”!  They all yelled.

Sir Butt sat back on his barstool and said, let me show you how I came up with his name and then you will all understand.  I am looking at my piles of items from my gift.  I have already told you that I have a pile of this and a pile of that and that they all were extracted from the same soil clod that was my gift.  But when you really get down to analyzing the piles, what do you see most?  Sand!  Sand of course.  That is the largest pile before us.  And if we dissected everyone’s gifts they would measure out in the same proportions of materials.  This mans name is  SANDY CLODS!!!!!!


Can you believe it?  Of course you can!

Bears Butt

Oct. 2011

Written on November 29th, 2011 , Sir Butt
By: Bears Butt

Written on November 29th, 2011 , Jokes I like!
By: Bears Butt

I guess I’ll vent.  There are service providers all over the world just itching to get my money.  Yours too.  Just once, just once, I would like to think those service providers that I do employe for one thing or another would be looking to keep me as a subscriber by giving me some real incentive to stay with them and not bail out and pick up some other company that does the same thing.

Does this not make sense, especially in todays economy?

I won’t say who this company is, but I am convinced I could drop their services and pick up another company that does the exact same thing and maybe even at a lower price.  I just renewed my subscription and I emailed them to find out about a “loyal customer” discount…their response was that they offer discounts through various tv/radio show hosts and if I would put in the “code” when I renewed my subscription that they would honor it and give me the discount.

I have already re-signed up!  It’s too late for me to go search for a discount code!  Why can’t they just credit me with the discount and make me feel good?

I’m sorry, but if you are a service provider and are reading this, I don’t think I am the only one in the world that feels the way I do.  So, do you and your company a big favor and give up a few discounts to those customers of yours that have been sticking with you for a few years buying your product/service.

Bears Butt

Nov. 2011

Written on November 29th, 2011 , Uncategorized
By: Bears Butt

November 28, 2011……

Yesterday, Nov. 27, culminated Dry Dogs Dream Hunt in the Crawford mountains.  His goal was to take a very nice buck out of the Crawfords and that he did with much excitement!  My side of the story goes like this:

Ever since his announcement about successfully drawing the coveted Crawford Mountain tag, back in the Spring of the year, preparations for this hunt have been being done.  You see, a hunt like this is more than just another hunt.  It is an “event”.  Events take much preparation, planning, organization and staffing.  This one was no different in any regard.

When you really think about it every player has a task they must do.  Whether called to do it, or do it on their own, they migrate to that task and get it done.  There are vehicles that must be made ready to operate without incidents in the inclement conditions that the Crawfords can dish out.  Trailers need to be gotten ready and stocked with everything imaginable.  Backup materials need to be brought in case of problems or just plain old running down of battery power due to use.  And then there are the luxury items and memorabilia things.

Months of preparation are brought to bear as the hunter and the support staff begin the last leg of the journey into the mountains.  We say that is when the fun begins, but as for me, the fun began at the first announcement of successfully drawing the tag!  As I proceeded to make the dream catchers and the many steps involved with each of them.  I had lots of time to ponder the upcoming hunt and the fun involved with it all.  Remembrances of past dream hunts continually came to mind.  And lots of “what ifs” also played a big part.  But the bottom line is, it was a fun and trouble free time while I made those tokens up and to each of you who have one in your possession, believe me when I say, they come from my heart and I am very glad you were there to receive one.

At the camp site came the work of setting up everything to make ourselves a home away from home.  The dining fly, the trailers, the cooking area and least of all the “standing of the sharns”.

And even though it is a lot of work to accomplish all of this in the shortest amount of time we still find lots of time to have fun.  Like “pole dancing”!

Watch out for the slivers Wapiti!

And when it is all up and ready!  We can now head out to see if there is a big old buck waiting for Dry Dog.

Even with camp set up, we can not head out in search of the big buck until we have made sure all of the vehicles are ready for the task ahead.  We anticipate some deep snow and slippery footing and so we must put chains on our rigs.

When that is all done, we are ready!  Load up the coolers boys, it’s time to go see if we can find Dry Dog a big buck!

We are off about 2 p.m. or so in pursuit of the big buck.  And it does not take long to begin seeing animals.  Of course most of the animals are doe and fawns, but we also see some small bucks.  Well, what constitutes a small buck to you?  On this hunt, Dry Dog has the call as to what is going to match his dream.  Our support job is to make sure he sees all his choices.

During a hunt like this one, usually when you see does, there will be a buck close by.  The larger bucks like to hide out of site and so, if you look really close behind that cedar tree, a very large buck is standing.

Sometimes they are standing right out in the open.

And sometimes they are laying down.

On this hunt there seems to be bucks almost everywhere.  It does not take us long to realize that Dry Dog is going to have a very tough choice to make.

At the end of the first day our accomplishments have been to safely drive into the mountains, set up the camp, reconnoiter the area and assess the fact that there are a LOT of bucks on the mountain.  We also see that blowing and drifting snow could be an issue if it keeps up.

Luckly for us this year, the wind stops and the clouds roll on toward Wyoming just about dark.  As we drive back into camp, we quickly see that the high winds have taken it’s toll on our camp.  The dining fly has a large tear on one corner and the opposite corner has lost it’s metal grommet.  Also, the EZ-up style canopy over the cooking area has been totally destroyed, even though it was being held down with stakes and rope.   Does this destroy our fun?  Not at all.  It is just a part of the ride.

We have some very good meals planned in the schedule and the first night finds us enjoying a fine steak, hash browns with extra onions, garlic bread toast and cold drinks of choice.

Our busy day has now taken it’s toll on our bodies and by 9:30 almost everyone is fast asleep.  At 5 a.m. the alarm goes off, signaling the beginning of our day two.  What is in store for us this fine day?  The temperature has dipped to 10 degrees, which we consider rather warm for this area and this time of year.  The sky is clear and filled with 10’s of millions of bright stars.  The air is calm and ones nostrils tend to freeze together when you breath deeply through your nose.  As the morning light begins to brighten, more support crew participants arrive.  This is all good and all a part of what makes this hunt so very special.

Morning snacks of fortune cookies are handed out and the fortunes are read one at a time.  Every one lending itself to assisting Dry Dog on his journey.  When the light of the morning allowed Dry Dog to be able to see the sights on his rifle, off we traveled in caravan style, up to the top toward the Big Windy Ridge!  The wind had drifted snow in most of the low places in the roads, but only one had to be shoveled in order that we could pass.  As it turned out, that was the only drift that caused us any concern at all on the hunt.

We had been seeing lots of does and fawns and smaller bucks along the way, when suddenly the radio barked out “Any Willow Creek Free Trappers have a copy on No Grimace?”.  Yes, it was No Grimace, Baby Boy, Fat Duck and Hunter in Ducks rig, Zeek that had made it to the mountain to join the Chosen one and his staff of supporters.

As it turned out, Zeek and crew were climbing up the backbone of the ridge we call “Tipi”  and at the same time we were descending a hollow  we call “Jones”.  Both roads join at the bottom of the hill.  We were soon parking along side of Zeek and crew.  Greetings were had and Hunter showed a picture he had taken no too far down the hill of a buck with 5 points on one side and 6 on the other.  Not a wide buck, but it sure was a tall buck.

Dry Dog suddenly changed his countenance…he transformed from a calm and collected Dry Dog on a dream hunt, into a Dry  Dog determined to kill a big buck!  We had to descend Tipi Ridge toward the bottom of the valley.  This is the place the crew in Zeek had seen the 5X6 buck.  Hunter was walking around among the cedars between Tipi Ridge and Jones hollow.  As we again found ourselves ascending Jones Hollow, we saw the movement of a big buck!  It was the buck hunter had the picture of and Dry Dog was even more determined to take this buck home with him.  We passed the point we last saw the buck standing in the cedars, as Dry Dog and Tracker would come down to the buck from above.  Part of the support crew had stayed down low where they could see the buck.

The radio signaled to Dry Dog where the buck was, but the thick cedars kept him from seeing the buck even though it was only about 70 yards from him.  The buck made its escape with Dry Dog in hot pursuit.  Big bucks don’t get big by being dumb and this one should live to be quite large.

When we all met back up Dry Dog had a cold foot and needed to rest up from his long trek.

Perhaps you should look into the purchase of another pair of boots Mr. Dry Dog!

When Dry Dog was ready, we headed back to camp for some lunch and to decide what to do next.  Dry Dog was still very much in “kill mode”, but it would have to be the “right buck” at the “right time”.  He had already seen the caliber of buck he wanted.  Dry Dog is into tall antlers not necessarily wide antlers like most folks are.  Make mine tall to fit the wall!  Show Clyde the hide!

During our lunch break we were visited by the local game warden.  He was most interested in seeing that Mr. Dry Dog had his license and was in good standing with the law.  Dry Dog passed the screening and was given the go ahead with the rest of his dream hunt.  At the same time, the warden showed us a buck that he had picked up off the side of the road near Logan and asked if any of us wanted the meat.  Crock took him up on the offer and off he went to clean it out.

As with most things “Free”, this bad boy came with a very ugly surprise for Crock.  Frozen and very stinky innards!   YUK!  Later (two days) Crock found out the meat from this supposedly one day dead buck, was most likely a two week dead buck.  Nothing could be salvaged.  Sorry about that Crock.

Well it was now time for the afternoon/evening hunt.  We refreshed the coolers and headed for Hidden Valley.

As we proceeded along the way, I was always asking for the direction of travel from Mr. Dry Dog.  Any time there was a junction in the road the question was asked.  As we came off the rocky pass, again I asked “Straight or Right”?  Straight would take us toward Hidden Valley, Right takes us up passed the Buck Cliffs.  Right was the answer!

We started seeing deer immediately after making the turn.  Smallish bucks seemed to be everywhere.  It was quite a neat experience as we continued up the narrow valley.  We were just about to another decision point when Dry Dog came on Point!  We stopped to glass another group of deer that included three fairly large bucks, Dry  Dog took one look through his binoculars and said “It’s a Shooter!  I’m goin after that one!”  And he bailed out of the vehicle, gun in tow!

The buck knew it was in trouble as Dry Dog slowly walked forward to get the best angle for his shot.  The does that had been surrounding the big buck slowly dispersed, leaving the big boy out in the open for the shot!

I won’t go into all the particulars of the shot as I don’t think it is my place to tell everything about Dry Dogs story.  But in the end, Dry Dog came off the mountain with one fine animal.  One anyone would be proud to have taken!   Congratulations Mr. Dry Dog!  Fine animal!

As tradition goes in our hunting camp, Dry Dog had been presented with a personal bottle of liquid refreshments, normally called “Grimace”.  After a successful hunt, the hunter is asked to take a horn off the Grimace jug in celebration.

And after the horn off the bottle, sometimes a guy just has to yell out….


And the night goes on and on.  Until we find ourselves faced with the morning.

This particular morning was going to find us once again getting up at the usual hunting time, but it was a morning hunt to “re-enact” the episode that unfolded in real life the day before.  This day is for the camera-man, Tracker, and his good friend “The Director” (The Editor plays a later part, don’t piss him off).

So, back we go to the place where Dry Dog got his buck.  Lots and lots of audio was being recorded as folks reminisced the events that lead up to the taking of the big buck the day before.  For sure the director and cameraman were in their element.

It was a very cold morning for this activity, but well worth every moment spent in and around the area where Dry Dog made his kill.  The temperature when we left camp was 6 degrees.  Plenty cold to get the dew on the sage nice and frozen.

And when all of the re-enactment had been recorded and the Director and Camera man were indeed happy, the crew broke out in a fine feast of kipper snacks, vienna sausages, crackers, chips, pickled pigs feet and summer sausage!  MMMMM.  Can it get any better than that?

Well Dry Dog, look over your right shoulder.  That is where your big buck met his demise.  A fine hunt!  Fine friends!  Good weather and the best of all, the mighty Crawford Mountains!

Oh, I guess this story just wouldn’t be ending right if I didn’t post up a picture of two of my friends in similar poses.  Of course the one hanging on the door was a much younger version of Muskrat.

And of course, since we had to travel through Wyoming to get back home, the law says you need to secure a permit to transport game animals through Wyoming.  In order to by pass this law, Dry Dog did a very good job of hiding his animal.

It was a most enjoyable hunt and we sure do hope others get the luck of the draw in 2012!  There is just something special about the Crawfords that gets into the blood!  Thanks for the dreams everyone!

Bears Butt

Nov. 2011

Written on November 28th, 2011 , DREAM HUNTS
By: Bears Butt

For all you faithful viewers, there will not be any postings until after my return from Dry Dogs Dream Hunt.  If I had an automatic way for postings to be made daily I would turn it on, but there isn’t.

Until then!  Happy Shopping!  Happy Days!  Happy everything you do!

Bears Butt

Nov. 25, 2011


BUT…now is your chance to catch up on all the other stories and such on this site!


Written on November 25th, 2011 , Uncategorized
By: Bears Butt

I talked with a man last night on the phone, who drew the same tag that Dry Dog has.  He has been hunting since the opener, last Saturday and has come off the mountain for Thanksgiving with his family.  His boy also drew the tag this year and has been with him some, but not all the time.  Here is his report.

The mountain had some snow and it made for some slippery conditions.  The depth was not an issue, more of an ice issue.  He and his brother chained up the truck and have been getting around pretty good.  Other hunters are not chained up and can get around to most places just fine.  He says there could be a bit more snow dropped and it would help the situation out.

The forecast for tonight and tomorrow (Friday, Nov. 25) is calling for 1 inch of snow in the Bear River Valley (Randolph) and up to 4 inches in the mountains.  Now this does not sound too bad.  The bad part is they are also calling for winds to 25 mph!  YUK!  It was the winds combined with about 10 inches of snow that got us last year.  Let’s hope it does not work out the same this year.

Paul went on to say there are loads of bucks on the mountain.  And with them are a bunch of nice 4X4 typical bucks in the 22 to 24 inch class.

3X3 (Thanks Bo from Mo for the picture)

Not something a hunter with a limited entry tag wants to put his tag on.  But they are nice to view and get pictures of.  He has seen some “shooter” bucks but only dropped the hammer on one of them.  His story:

He located this buck “down in the bottom” (where ever that is) and put a great sneak on it.  (He did not say how long the shot was)  When he touched the trigger only the cap went off…POP!  Unknown to him and the other hunter, before Paul could get another cap on his nipple, the other hunter shot the big buck!

Paul and the other hunter know each other and I am sure they both would have honored the others presence at sneaking up on this buck, had they known the other guy was sneaking up on it.  But, they were approaching from different directions and neither of them knew the other guy was anywhere close.

The other hunter tagged the 32 inch wide buck!  I’m sure we will see pictures of it when we get up there.

Now then.  Will Dry Dog get a chance at a 32 inch buck?  Maybe.  There aren’t a lot of 32 inch bucks around.  Will Dry Dog “see” a 30 inch or bigger buck?  Maybe.  30 inch bucks are not that prevalent either.  At any rate, Dry Dog has never shot a buck that was 24 inches wide and so our job is to make sure he is settled down enough to rationalize the prospects of something bigger than that.  We all know that even though he is trusting us with his tin of caps, that he will have some reserve caps on his person that we do not know he has.  I’m telling you this now, if the 24 inch buck does not have some “kicker” points sticking out and about, Dry Dog will forever kick himself in the rear if he shoots it.

24 inch bucks look really big, and by all rights they are big.

But, the antler shrinkage begins in earnest once the buck is on the ground.  A view of a 24 inch wide buck going straight away from you is an awesome site and it makes the buck look like a 30 plus inch wide buck, even to a trained hunter who has seen them all.  But, when one sees a truely big buck, there is NO QUESTION as to if it is a “shooter” or not.

These pictures were all taken by my friend Bo Wendleton from Boonesville, Missouri a few years back while he was hunting this same limited entry unit.  As you can see there are some very respectable bucks up there.  Take a look at his downed buck from sort of a back view.

Boy what a nice trophy buck!  How wide do you think it actually is?  Looks like a solid 30 incher to me from here!  Beautiful buck, there is no mistaking that.  Typical 4X4 with eye guards, deep forks, mass…it has it all.

Well this buck measured just short of 27 inches.  It sure looked bigger on the hoof.  Over 200 pounds of animal laying right there!  Would a round ball have killed it?  Probably, but I believe Bo used a bullet that weighed over 300 grains to bring this bad boy to the ground and it took a couple of shots to do it.  Just saying.

So, here we have a decision to make.  I do not know how big this buck truely is, but it sure looks like it could be a shooter.  Certainly a shooter to someone out there.

Magnificent animal!

Tomorrow my friend!  It could be yours!

Bears Butt

Nov. 2011

Written on November 24th, 2011 , DREAM HUNTS
By: Bears Butt

One more LONG day to wait until the venture of Dry Dogs Dream Hunt begins!  Hunts like this one are coveted in a hunters mind.  The chance to bag a buck as big as ones dreams.  Notice I said “Chance”.  Can the hunter in Dry Dog hold off until he has seen all there are hiding in the Crawfords?  Will the first really big buck Dry Dog has ever seen before become his freezer full of meat?  Will Dry Dog’s eyes glaze over as he watches a Crawford two point walk away and wonder if he should have taken that enormous beast?  AHH Yes!  The Crawfords.  It ain’t just a dream anymore Mr. Dry Dog!  It is game time!

Bears Butt

Nov. 2011



Written on November 23rd, 2011 , DREAM HUNTS, Uncategorized
By: Bears Butt

Today: Mostly sunny, with a high near 44. Southeast wind at 7 mph becoming southwest.

Tonight: Partly cloudy, with a low around 22. South wind between 6 and 8 mph.

Thanksgiving Day: A slight chance of rain. Snow level 7300 feet. Partly sunny, with a high near 43. Southwest wind between 6 and 10 mph. Chance of precipitation is 20%.

Thursday Night: A slight chance of rain and snow before 11pm, then a chance of snow. Mostly cloudy, with a low around 22. West southwest wind around 7 mph. Chance of precipitation is 40%. New snow accumulation of less than a half inch possible.

Friday: Snow. High near 36. Breezy, with a west wind 11 to 14 mph increasing to between 19 and 22 mph. Chance of precipitation is 80%. New snow accumulation of less than one inch possible.

Friday Night: A 20 percent chance of snow before 11pm. Partly cloudy, with a low around 3.

Saturday: Mostly sunny, with a high near 36.

Saturday Night: Partly cloudy, with a low around 6.

Sunday: Mostly sunny, with a high near 40.

Sunday Night: Partly cloudy, with a low around 17.

Monday: A slight chance of rain and snow showers. Snow level 6600 feet. Partly sunny, with a high near 43.

Monday Night: Partly cloudy, with a low around 16.

Tuesday: Mostly sunny, with a high near 39.

Written on November 23rd, 2011 , DREAM HUNTS
By: Bears Butt

AHHH!  My first Thanksgiving moment on! There are a lot of cool reasons for my having this website, but the one that is most dear to me is the fact that I can write whatever I want, say whatever I believe, make up things and the bottom line is….nobody can dispute it.  You can write comments and rebute etc., but who has the last say on whether it gets posted or not?  ME!  HA! HA!

I do try to accept the comments that are applicable and you know who you are that have sent ugly things my way that nobody else has gotten to see.  I love it!  Thanks Weasel for setting this up that way!

Back to the message.  I am indeed dearly blessed.  A regular on the Utah Wildlife Network forum wrote a really good thread about his past and it brought back many good memories from my own past.  I reckon when you grow up in a small town of just over 1,000 people, at the foot of the Rocky Mountains and in a time when money truly was scarce, you grow to appreciate the little things more.

We had a car, which was a luxury back in the 50’s.  We had a black and white TV and a radio too.  Both were considered high class stuff.  We also heated the house with wood and coal and with that came the chores of stocking up the wood and coal bins and taking out the clinkers and ashes…EVERYDAY!

Mother cooked on a Monarch stove, top of the line back then.  She knew exactly how much heat she needed to cook the food on the top and still be able to bake in the oven and not under or over bake whatever it was she was preparing.  Again, wood and coal was used for that and again a bucket of ashes and clinkers needed to be taken outside and tossed…EVERYDAY!

Chickens needed to be fed.  Pigs too.  Horses and cows?  Yes, them too.  I was fortunate enough to be too young to milk the cows and my Uncle did that.  I was just old enough to get to sit on the barn wall with the cats and when it was my turn, Uncle Lou would squirt a blast of warm milk right from the teet at my face.  Most of which went on my face and not in my mouth.  I must say the cats knew a lot about getting the milk in their mouths…more practice I guess.  Besides, if the milk hit their face they would still get the benefit of it, because it stayed in their fur until they could lick it out.  I, on the other hand, ended up with a wet shirt.  It was a very good thing…what a memory.

I didn’t get to play football on the school team, nor wrestle or any of the other sports, even though my mind said I should and I would be the very best at whatever it was (except basketball…too short).  We did not have an activity bus to bring us home late.  But, looking back, that was probably a good thing.  It did not seem like it at the time.  Ride the bus back to town, walk home, drop the books and homework on the table.  Change clothes and head out to do the chores.  When the chores were done, come in, wash up and get after the homework.

Usually, about half way through the homework, Bones and mother would have the dinner ready.  When dad got home we would eat and then it was back to the homework and then get ready for bed and another day awaited when we woke up.

Blessed is all I can say, truly blessed!

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!

Bears Butt

Nov. 2011

Written on November 23rd, 2011 , Uncategorized
By: Bears Butt

Who is excited?  ME!  I’m all packed except for my tool box, which might be needed between now and Friday morning!

Written on November 22nd, 2011 , DREAM HUNTS | Stories, Ramblings & Random Stuff From an Old Mountain Man is proudly powered by WordPress and the Theme Adventure by Eric Schwarz
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Just some of my old stories, new stories, and in general what is going on in my life.