Ya know Wapiti dung aint a bad guy—but he does have a better half.  In the days before she started venturing in mountaineering camps, her school chums and family called her Marla.  Even today that name will be used–mostly when there is a small crisis on the rise.

One time up on the Rock Creek drainage, about a days ride from Fort Buenaventura, we was havin fun and jawing with other trappers.  The bets were on and the shootin’ was going strong.  Our party made several plumb center shots, so we knoed there would be a great council fire celebration that evening.  The jug was passed early and most all enjoyed its contents.

Now then—in the mountain, especially when wagons roll one behind the other on wet ground, the roads (as flatlanders call them) become “rutted”.  These ruts are caused by the wagon wheels as the horses pull the weighted Conestoga along and the mud from the rains is forced from its natural lie. (For a further explanation read—“The Physics of Mud Dispersion” by Bog,I.Ben-1793).

As the council fire licked the dark night sky it was noted the moon was non-existent.  Away from the fire all things remained un-seen—dark—black as pitch.  Some were smart and brought with them small lanterns and other light sources with which to aid their travel back to their lodges after council fire.  Others brought only whiskey.  The council fire was over after much merriment, singing, bet pay offs, and shoot prizes passed out.  All were happy.

Wine Maker and I gathered our stuff and made our way back to our lodge.  About half way there we could hear voices ahead in the darkness.  We slowed our pace because we couldn’t tell if the people were comin or goin.  As we got closer we recognized the voices as Wapiti and Marla.  Wapiti said to her—“Just stay in the rut and keep goin’ the same direction as me”.  Marla was unsure.  We did finally get her back to camp safely and around our own small council fire a naming was in order.  The talkin stick was gathered and Marla was called into the fires light.  From this time forward and wherever mountain men shall meet “Rut Runner” shall be your name.

Bears Butt

Jul-Aug1988